


Integration

by codedredalert



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Asexual Character, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Interspecies Relationship(s), Living Together, M/M, Not Humanstuck, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Quadrant Vacillation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codedredalert/pseuds/codedredalert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The university that John Egbert attends has recently decided that if he wants dorm accommodation for the next four years, he has to share with a troll. He gets Karkat Vantas, who is decidedly annoyed with the new policy, really weird about romance, and apparently in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rules

**Author's Note:**

> For [crabapples97](http://crabapples97.tumblr.com/), my giftee in the [ssjohnkat2014](http://ssjohnkat2014.tumblr.com/). Beta'd by [tonguerocker](http://tonguerocker.tumblr.com/). Also available on tumblr [here](http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/tagged/integration%20fic/chrono).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red Johnkat endgame, but the author is blackrom trash. The author apologises insincerely for being blackrom trash.

The inside of the apartment is dark except for the light streaming in behind you. There are two crescent slivers of reflective yellow at eye level. You squint and can just about make out a person standing just before the squareish room cut to a narrow corridor.

“Welcome, human,” the person _growls_. He’s got this low, rough voice that’s really interesting. He spreads his arms, and you see the movement, but can’t make out much else. He’s wearing black.

“Welcome,” he continued, “to the complete disaster that is the destined-to-fail exercise of forcing a nocturnal and diurnal species to cohabit the same premises on a functional schedule without killing each other. I am the unfortunate fucker designated as your co-sufferer. Merry fucking Christmas.”

“Hi Karkat,” you say. In the dark, the person shifts.

“What?” he says, suspiciously.

“That’s your name, right?” you ask rhetorically. You happened to see the log thing when you collected your keys, and you’re pretty sure you have it right. “Karkat Vantas. Or am I saying it wrong? Vantahs. Van-tass? Vantas-tic! Heheheh.”

“ _Rrrrhhhstt_ , stop. No. Do not mangle my name with your ridiculous hopbeast teeth. Do not so much as fucking look in my direction, understand, human?”

“Wow, rude. My name’s John, not ‘human’. John Egbert, actually.”

“John human Egbert,” Karkat says flatly. “You overestimate how many fucks I give. I give approximately zero fucks. We stay in the same goddamn apartment because of the integration policy this schoolfeeding facility decided to ram up our wastechutes. We are not, and we will not _become_ , human ‘friends’. At the end of our miserable two sweeps here, we will ideally part ways without so much as looking back. After four sweeps, I want to be able to say ‘who the fuck is John Egbert’ and you will not even recall in the _vaguest_ the name ‘Karkat Vantas’. Are we clear?”

“Karkat?” you say, when you think he’s done. “No offence, but you’re a huge weirdo. Anyway, which room is mine?”

 

===/\===

 

—turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB].–

TG: sup egbert  
EB: dave!  
EB: how’s your troll roomie?  
TG: shit my man tavros is a bro  
TG: got some pretty dope flow too once hes got some momentum going  
EB: pfft, rap battle already dave?  
EB: you’re going to scar the poor guy for life.  
TG: nah hes cool with it  
TG: but yeah i might tone it down for a while  
TG: give him some time to acclimatise to this much strider in the immediate proximity yknow  
EB: yeah! you might kill him from your swag radiation otherwise, pfft.  
TG: you laugh egbert but i see no lie  
EB: your face is a lie!  
EB: one day, you’re going to take off your shades and GASP you’ll have NO face.  
EB: like the invisible man.  
TG: so it has come to this  
TG: time for the big guns then  
EB: oh, yeah?  
EB: bring it!  
TG: your cake is a lie  
TG: and also betty crocker  
EB: oh yuckkkkkk!  
EB: what kind of a bro are you, using my one weakness against me!  
TG: you got issues man  
TG: if i got a sweet cake like that at christmas i would eat the cake and also share it with my best and coolest bro aka dave strider  
TG: maybe quietly whisper a hallelujah because it isnt smuppet ass in my face while im sleeping  
TG: nothing says hey happy jesus birthday like a dubious as fuck stuffed toy half suffocating you as you wake up  
TG: i s2g its only gotten worse now im legal  
EB: haha your bro is kind of weird.  
EB: and also where do you get to say i have issues after all that!  
EB: YOU have issues.  
TG: never said i didnt  
TG: my issues just happen to be cool issues  
TG: anyways  
TG: you unpacked or are you messaging me because you cant live without me  
EB: but how do i liiiive without youuuuuuuu!  
TG: fuck  
TG: i set myself up for that one didnt i  
EB: heheheh yeah.  
TG: no but for srs sup  
EB: hey, you messaged me first.  
TG: did i  
TG: shit youre right  
EB: but its cool, i have tons to talk about.  
EB: like how my troll roomie is kind of a huge butt.  
TG: okay i legit cant tell if you mean  
TG: oh no roommate got the booty   
TG: or  
TG: well fuck roommate is a huge asshole  
EB: the second thing.  
TG: right got it  
EB: okay so you know how i thought it would be kind of neat to have a troll roommate?  
EB: the first thing he did when i walked in was yell at me and say he didn’t even want to be friends and stuff.  
TG: woah whats this guys problem  
TG: who the fuck does he think he is  
EB: he said his name was karkat?  
EB: well, he didn’t exactly say but i saw when I collected my keys.  
TG: holy fuck john your roommate is karkat motherfucking vantas  
TG: im dying here  
TG: jesus  
TG: this is the shit  
EB: what?  
EB: is there a joke i’m missing here?  
TG: you cant tell but im laughing so damn hard right now  
EB: what webcam WEBCAM NOW or it didn’t happen!  
EB: …it’s not happening I mean.  
EB: WEBCAMMM.  
TG: no way i got a rep to maintain  
TG: and you would video the hell outta this fine face admit it  
EB: i would i seriously would.  
EB: and then i would send it to jade and rose.  
EB: heheheh.  
TG: and this is why we cant have nice things john  
EB: okay but why is it funny that i’m rooming with karkat?  
TG: because its karkat  
TG: like seriously we watched f451 the movie in class last sem  
TG: it was complete shit dont bother asking  
TG: and karkat went through half a box of kleenex i kid you not  
EB: huh.  
TG: yup  
EB: so he’s actually like a huge softie on the inside?  
TG: he is one thousand percent tsundere with extra shojo sparkle  
TG: he is the disney princess  
TG: it is him  
EB: pfffft.  
EB: well, i guess if you know that, his yelling isn’t so bad anymore.  
EB: it’s kind of, i dunno, like a small dog barking?  
TG: like a goddamn monochrome pomeranian  
TG: yapping all the way til paris hilton comes to put him in her hot pink handbag and drives into the sunset in fuckin malibu  
TG: and hed still be yapping  
TG: christ its like he has a second set of lungs  
EB: pfft, maybe he does!  
EB: after all…… aaaaaaaalienss.  
TG: point  
TG: anyway the kid never shuts up  
TG: has he told you about troll romance yet  
EB: no?  
TG: you lucky bastard  
EB: should i ask?  
TG: its your funeral  
TG: maybe even literally in the legit sense of the word  
TG: ive heard that shit three times  
TG: ive literally wanted to die listening to his goddamn thesis  
EB: he wrote an actual thesis?  
EB: haha, what a dork.  
TG: i dont think he has that shit on paper  
TG: at least i hope not  
TG: shit might break the interwebs  
EB: that bad huh.  
TG: you have no idea  
EB: aw man now you’ve made me really curious!  
EB: what could have made the great dave strider cry uncle?  
EB: i need to know!  
EB: hey if i give karkat christmas cake, d’you think he’ll tell?  
TG: you heartless cad that cake was mine  
TG: we were going to cut it to the sound of church bells  
TG: how could you leave me at the altar egbert  
TG: the servants will talk  
EB: dude, you’ve been watching waaay too much downtown abbey.  
TG: downton john  
TG: its spelled downton  
EB: its spelled dave has a problem, and the problem is a period british drama.  
TG: i told you  
TG: im watching that shit ironically  
EB: i dunno man, you’ve been referencing it a lot.  
TG: cant help it if the good doctor cant get the irony  
EB: hey!  
EB: we had a truce, no picking on my course!  
EB: we can’t all be so lucky as to study film and lit.  
TG: dunno how lucky it is  
TG: i mean my karma was completely balanced out because im stuck with karkat in every goddamn class  
TG: i would draw dicks on his notes except he freaked the fuck out because he thought i was hitting on him  
EB: uh, what?  
TG: trolls man  
TG: goddamn motherfucking trolls  
EB: uh, okay.  
EB: so he’s gay?  
TG: hes romcomsexual  
EB: pfft.  
EB: does that make you crappywebcomicsexual?  
TG: only ironically  
EB: you keep using that word, i do not think you know what it means.  
TG: fuck you did you just meme on me you bastard  
EB: eheheh.  
EB: anyway i’m going to commence operation ‘bribe karkat with cake so he likes me’.  
EB: wish me luck!  
TG: you could just shake your ass at him and give me the cake instead  
EB: gasp!  
EB: did you just tell me to sell my body for your benefit, mister strider?  
EB: who’s the heartless cad now?  
TG: i deny everything  
EB: anyway, going for real this time!  
TG: good luck  
TG: youll need it if youre gonna survive the quadrant talk

—ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]. –

 

Yeah, as usual, your dad sent you a cake. You don’t even know how he does it, but the dorm office called you and yup, you got a homemade cake even though you’re literally a thousand miles from home. Dad is just embarrassing like that.

Its good fruit cake though, not of that mass produced cake mix ugh. You swear Betty Crocker cake mix is evil, you just haven’t figured out how to prove it yet. Anyway, Dad makes fruit cake from scratch and feeds it with an entire bottle of rum over six months. Dave nearly passed out the first time you unwrapped one, it was hilarious.

You get two plates and cut generous slices, and you head over to the dining table where Karkat is typing furiously, in between muttered hissing.

“Hey,” you say.

No response.

“Hey, Karkat,” you say, and you bump your elbow into the back of his shoulders, near his neck.

“Fuck!” he explodes, shoots out of his chair and turns around snarling, eyes all yellow then huge and black and red-orange in the edges.

You stumble back and try to balance the plates. A fork falls off and clatters on the floor.

Karkat’s glaring at you and his hair is all spiked up like a cat.

“Cake?” you offer.

The other fork falls to the floor. Aw, man.

“I’ll get that,” you say.

“I _cannot_ believe this,” he says slowly, and he pulls earbuds from his almost elf like ears. His hair slowly flattens and it really deflates a lot, wow. “I _refuse_ to believe that less than twenty four hours after I SPECIFICALLY told you NOT to have any contact whatsoever, in any way, shape or form, that you would be so fucking obtuse that you would fuck yourself on the border of a goddamn reflex angle. Did I goddamn STUTTER when I said I have no intention whatsoever of becoming human friends with you, John Egbert? Because I meant that I want to be the opposite of friends. I want your existence to have zero impact on my life. Do you understand or are you too much of a PISSPOOR EXCUSE FOR MUTATED PRIMATE MUCUS that you can’t understand the words coming out of my mouth?”

“Oh hey, Rush Hour,” you noticed. Heh, it did help to know that for all the yelling this guy was a dork, the bluster became kind of funny, really. You handed him a plate and his hands automatically came out to hold it. You put your plate on the table and picked up the forks.

Karkat looks like he might accidentally snap the plate in half and his eyebrows are so scrunched together he almost looks like he has a unibrow.

“Yeah, so I figured we have a lot to talk about, since we’re living together, and it’d be nice to talk over cake. There’s a lot of rum in this one though, so … wait, can trolls can take alcohol?”

He puts his plate down and eyes you warily.  

“Is this a really terrible joke,” he asks, flat. “Please tell me this is a goddamn failure of a joke. Haha, Karkat fell for it, now we will proceed with the regular program of not engaging in abject stupidity.”

“Nope, there’s not a lot of trolls where I come from, so I really don’t know. You’re kind of the first I’ve properly met! Isn’t that neat?”

“No. No, it isn’t fucking ‘neat’ or ‘sick’ or ‘swag’ or whatever other human word you think might describe this arrangement in a remotely positive fashion. It MEANS that I have to put up with your blinding ignorance as you attempt to adjust to my lifestyle. Oh, except the part where I don’t give a squeakbeast’s ass about educating you, and you should just fucking stay out of my way!!!”

“Okay, I listened to you, but no offence, I don’t think your ideas are going to work,” you said, wiping the forks on your shirt and handing him one. He glowers at it, and you, and doesn’t take it. Okay, so maybe you should have washed it first but hey, the floor was dry! Besides it totally passed the three second rule.

“Why. Not,” Karkat bites out. You shrug and break off a piece of cake with your fork.

“I mean, look,” you say, waving the fork in a circle at the walls around you. “We’re literally sharing a three room apartment, and one of those rooms is a kitchen slash dining room. We’d definitely run into one another even if we didn’t want to, and doing things your way would be suuuuper awkward. Like, what if my friends want to come over?”

Karkat opens his mouth to argue but you cut him off.

“So, I think we should talk about house rules and stuff and also I think we should be friends! It’ll be hard to be deal with each other being all up in our space all the time if we aren’t friends… So yeah! Think about it?”

Karkat’s jaw goes click. Or at least you think it’s his jaw? It’s too dim to tell.

“Can I make it a house rule to NOT FUCKING TALK TO ME?” he growls.

“Karkat,” you said. “Buddy, we can’t not talk to each other! Like, we need to figure out the cooking and the cleaning and like I don’t know, the rules for the lights and stuff! Otherwise you’ll be yelling at me just for turning the lights on like, I don’t know, twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh my _god_ , you _grubfucked **moron**_. Repeat after me, _TROLLS ARE_ **_NOCTURNAL_**. It means that it literally fucking hurts my bleeding oculars when you turn on hideously bright lights without so much as a goddamn warning!”

“Alright! I’m sorry already, sheesh. I’ll check the dimmer next time, but I can’t see and I can’t study like this. And I’ll have to study over term!”  

“Study outside!”

“Hey, this is my apartment too, alright? Look, all I’m saying is that we’re going to have to compromise! It’s the same for even regular roomies, so I’m not giving you a hard time just because you’re a troll, promise. Look, I’ll write some stuff down, and you can write some stuff down, and we’ll talk about this again, alright?”

“Why even bother wasting calories moving your goddamn faceflaps at me when you don’t give a fuck about any reply I give, John human? Are you waiting to see how long it takes for me to explode into a white hot supernova of pure cosmic rage? Should I set up a digital clock to keep track of how long it takes? It won’t take very fucking long with the way you’re going, let me assure you.”

“Yes! Obviously I’m doing this just to piss you off, so I can live with someone who is forever pissed off with me,” you say sarcastically. You shake your head. “C’mon Karkat, work with me here.”  

“You,” Karkat says and he’s quiet angry this time, like he’s compressed the anger so tight it’s burning sound, like that time you all watched Gravity and Jade paused Sandra Bullock’s acting to geek out over why a pod re-entering the atmosphere generates heat not so much by friction but by compression.

The light from his laptop shines across his scleras, across the lines in his nose and where his lips pulled back to show the edges of his teeth. He’s breathing slow and he’s watching you, intense and never quite settling on your face in favour of flicking his gaze to your hands.

He steps into your space and he’s a tiny bit shorter than you. Your glasses slip a little as you bring your chin down, half to look at him and half because something screams at you not to expose your throat so close to those teeth. They’re hardly needles but still long and uncomfortably pointed.

The edges of Karkat’s mouth twitch up so slightly you might have imagined it.

“You have _no idea_ what the fuck you’re doing,” he says. It’s low and gravelly and superior and it runs a chill down your spine and a cold burn low in your stomach.

You drag out a chair and smile at the ensuing confused look. Yup, much better because woah, that was _way_ too intense.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter,” you reply, pushing his laptop away from the food. “C’mon, Karkat! Eat your cake and let’s make the rules.”


	2. Gosling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a totally made up language that I spent way too much time on.  
> If you hover your mouse over the words, a translation will appear.  
> If you are on mobile, enjoy the confusion which I intended. (I actually like it without, it's neater and more from John's pov.)  
> Alternatively, you can find [the chapter with translations in the text on my tumblr here](http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/post/109390632715/integration-pt-2-7-homestuck-john-karkat).  
> For language geeks, [ the section with translations and translation notes is on my tumblr here](http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/post/109390637120/integration-pt-2-notes-homestuck-john-karkat). If there is demand I will parse translation notes to end notes here on AO3.  
> 

“Hey Karkat, I’m turning on the lights, alright?” you call as you pull your shoes off. No response, so you switch on the small lights first.

You nearly trip over a pair of shoes that have four sizes on yours. Karkat’s grey converse are next to them.

“Karkat?” you ask again.

“Hey motherfucker,” someone says from your left. You turn to see a face all white with huge empty sockets and a gaping smile.

“GAAAAAAAAAH,” you yell. In a very manly way. While falling over backwards over shoes and into the door.

The empty black sockets flicker open, showing yellow, before shutting again.

Now that you have a moment to look, it’s a really, really tall troll, with upward, slightly twisting horns like an antelope. He’s wearing white face paint, and a baggy shirt and pants.

The troll waves languidly and growl-click chitters something at you, all low and reverberating.

“What?” you ask.

“’Sup motherfucker,” the troll says cheerfully, then he continues growl clicking in a friendly way, if that made sense.

“Uh,” you interrupt. “I don’t speak Alternian, but I’m guessing you’re Karkat’s friend?”

“Motherfucking yeah,” the troll says with a bright, if lopsided grin. “ _K’rrk’t ss_." 

The bathroom door opens, then slams shut.

“JESUSFUCK, _G’mze_ , _hrrst tnnsh’ii_ god fucking damn it!” Karkat yells through the door.

“Hey,” the tall troll replies, not bothered by the yelling at all. “ _Sya rst_ , best friend.”

“ _Lhrei rst, di’mna sk’rri_! ”

“Uh, hey Karkat, I’m home?” you volunteer cautiously. “The prof had an emergency and won’t be here this week. I think I mentioned it yesterday?”

“… Fuck.”

“Motherfuck,” the new troll adds _way_ too happily.

“John, look the fuck away from the space between where I currently am, and the door of my room,” Karkat orders.

“Uh what?”

“Oh, _I don’t know_ , unless you actually actively _want_ to see my naked gluteals making their way back to where my clothes currently are. Maybe I’ll shashay on the way, and get another scream of horror from you while I’m at it. My ego could use the second trip down the fucking metaphorical stairs.”

“Oh uh right!” you turn around, pronto. Sheesh, it wasn’t that you screamed a lot, you just didn’t expect your roommate to walk to the bathroom naked while dripping with radioactive glowing green slime at six in the evening!

“So motherfucker,” the tall troll says conversationally _and WHY ISN’T HE TURNING AROUND_ oh god _don’t think about it._ “ _Lhrei mhrr au_ get your hating on my main motherfucker _K’rrk’t_ yeah?”

“I don’t think I understand?” you say.

“ _Lhrei hh K’rrk’t_ ,” the troll explains patiently. “ _Mhrr au_ make like all _hi’tmrreg’m_ , yeah?”

“Like… roommates?” you hazard and the troll makes some funny lawnmower sound which you guess is affirmation. “Yeah, well, he was kinda mean in the beginning, like, three weeks ago? Or at least I thought so, but after I understood a little of _why_ he does things like get slime everywhere and totally making a huge fuss about warning him about the lights, it’s okay? Like, we’re cool now.”

“ _G’mze, hrrst_ fucking _lhrr_ _srrmahglb’ng m’kkurra au_ _Zhann._ And John, don’t fucking encourage out that shit either!”

“Aww, but _hhneizh’anssh lhrei mhrr ynn Zhann lhrr_ pitchbro  yeah?”

“ _HRRST_ NO, NO, _FUCKING NO_ AND ALSO SHUT UP.”

“Motherfucking _yes_ ,” the tall troll insists. He edges over to John’s line of sight. Just leans, really. His body is long enough, and his spine is a lot bendier than you expected for some reason. Karkat’s friend is so stretched out, it’s like someone took him before he set and just pulled him by head and foot till he was twice as long as he should have been.

“ _G’mze M’kkra_ ,” he says and uses one long spindly hand to trace the looping purple sign on his chest. “ _Di’mn au?_ ”

“I’m John Egbert.”

“ _Zhann Egb’rt_. ”

“Close enough,” you smile and he smiles back. Gamzee has a mouth full of fangs, with several eyeteeth coming down over his lips. They’re really long when he’s smiling.

Karkat’s elbow meets your ribs and he pushes against Gamzee’s chest with an open hand.

“Alright, you both stop talking NOW. You both talking at each other is the worst idea in the history of ideas, even worse than when Eridan tried speed dating. That’s the hugeass level of disaster we are talking about. _G’mze_ , _sya au lhei l’nhhnei dtt’n sya mhrrshree au lhei sskrangzhh m’ngalkarr’sn_. ”

Karkat, with his hair dripping wet onto his black long sleeve shirt, is standing so close to Gamzee that he has to crane his head up to look at the taller troll. He looks small without the usual fluffiness to flare around his face, and even smaller next to the clown troll.

Gamzee’s smile drops a little.

“Sure thing, motherfucker,” he says.

He ruffles Karkat’s hair in both his huge spider hands and kissed the base of each tiny horn. Karkat gives you a quick look daring you to say something and kisses him back, once, quick, between the collar bones.

“ _Lhrei ynn keem’n’n hnyyninsin syrr’n. Sya ssee’nginrhr ynn sskr’gzhh Zhann lhrr’n nssi’psainng._ ”

Karkat cracks a smile and bumps his forehead against Gamzee’s chest.

“Oh my god, get out right the fuck now you giant moron,” Karkat says, but this is the closest you’ve _ever_ seen him to laughing. He looks really happy. It’s a good look on him, so much better than his grumpy yelling face.

Gamzee laughs and grabs Karkat around the waist, and just short of nuzzles him, eyes closed. Karkat lets him.

And this is… kiiiind of uncomfortable to watch. Especially from this close.

“Uh yeah, okay, bye?” you say.

“Bye,” Gamzee agrees and unwraps himself from Karkat.

“ _Km’n_ ,” Karkat mutters and closes the door behind the other troll.

Wow, awkward silence.

Ahah. Hah hah.

“So,” you start.

“So,” Karkat repeats dryly.

“I mean, so you and him?”

Karkat’s eyebrows do the scrunchy thing.

“You’re making dumbfuck faces at me, John. What do you want, in small words, if that is what it takes for your primate derivative thinkpan to process the idea.”

“Um, so uh, you,” you try to start and fail, and Karkat has his ‘what the fuck John’ face on.  “Wow there is no graceful way to segue into this is there? Hahah. Is Gamzee …. Are you and Gamzee well, dating? Y’know, romantically?”

Karkat snorts.

“Uh, NO. He is, as you SHOULD have figured out if you had working oculars, my moirail. We aren’t _testing_.”

“Wait, moirail? Is that like, troll boyfriend?” You cut him off before he goes into a rant you have no context for. Like the sopor rant, gosh that one was so bad.

Karkat actually has a moment of speechlessness, and you could _see_ the twenty different things he wanted to say but couldn’t decide on.

He settles for facepalming with both hands and an anguished clicking so fast it’s almost a whine.

“You—I… sit. You park your fucking gluteals on the poor, longsuffering chair which, to the surprise of our non-existent audience, is a mere second contender in comparison to how fucking done I am with you at this particular moment.”

“Kay,” you sit. “What’s going on?”

“I,” Karkat says dramatically. “Am going to _schoolfeed_ your _**ignorant** human ass_ on **_quadrants_**.”

…

(Holy cow, Dave was not kidding when he called it a thesis.)

 

===/\===

 

Karkat sets his bowl of insect cornflakes on the table and all but falls onto the chair. He pokes at it with a spoon and you hear it crunch.

Yuck.

It’s not polite to make faces and Dad always said your face would freeze that way but you can’t help yourself! Your alien roomie seriously eats dead alien bug-babies for breakfast on the same table you eat at. That’s _got_ to give you a free pass or something.

Karkat sees your expression and casually eats a spoonful. A jointed leg twitches near his mouth.

 _Double_ yuck.

You go back to the videos for your animal bio module and try not to watch Karkat eat, but he chose the chair right next to you, so you keep getting snatches of movement in your peripheral vision and then you _have to_ just… glance over for a second and _ughh_.

Karkat looks like he’s won a facebook game achievement every time you do that. It’s a really petty, smug face, and he’s been doing this for nearly two months now. You can tell he’s being smug even if he has his dumb, grumpy expression on.

“Hey, do you want to watch this with me?” You say, to get an excuse to listen to something other than chitin shell cracking between Karkat’s teeth. “It’s for my animal bio module.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Is that what humans call watching lolmeowbeasts jumping into cardboard containment squares now? We just call it a fucking waste of time.”

“Hah hah,” you roll your eyes. “This is legit for my extra hall mod. It’s a documentary clip about geese. C’mon, I hear it’s cute.”

“You see, Egbert, that is the exact _opposite_ of an incentive for me to watch it.” Karkat pauses and jabs at the bottom of his yellow grub mush food. He bites his bottom lip for a split second before continuing. “But come to think of it, you are not above a goddamn reacharound via your colourless douchebag moirail, so I’m listening.”

… Moirail was the best friend quadrant right? But still romantic. Romantic best friends.

Who sometimes kiss and touch each other’s faces and cry a lot.

Troll romance is hard.

“Bluh Karkat, stop shipping me and Dave! That’s racist. Speciesist. Thing.”

He makes a vaguely disbelieving face at you.

“Whatever!” You say, shifting your laptop so both of you could see it, but he was a bit too far for the screen to be easily visible. “Just scoot over and watch this. C’mon. I’m going to be really annoying until you do.”

He snorts.

“You imply that you are ever not annoying, which is a blatant lie,” he says but he drags his chair closer to yours.

“Right,” you say. “Let’s do this!”

[You press play](http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/post/107957048190/wtfevolution-what-if-these-barnacle-geese).

The video goes to a baby bird standing on a cliffside. There’s orchestral music and the camera pans down.

It’s a long way down.

You glance at Karkat quickly to ask him ‘is this video what I think it is’, and he’s looking at you too, eyebrows scrunched together and smug pull of his mouth completely gone in favour of confusion and dawning comprehension.

The baby bird cheeps and both of you turn back to the screen without saying anything.

There’s a crescendo of strings and brass.

The gosling throws itself off the cliff.

You and Karkat jerk forward in sync. The camera cuts out to a distance and a low, David Attenborough-ish voice drones in the background. _‘The perfect launch and a controlled drop. This is as good a descent as is possible to make.’_

You barely hear it. Karkat’s stopped breathing and is just staring at the screen with this horrified expression, mouth open and not breathing as the sound cuts and the gosling falls and falls…

Holy shit the baby bird was still falling.

Karkat’s clawing at his own jeans—grip, relax, grip— in your blurry peripheral vision.

 _It’s still falling_ —

**_OH MY GOD._ **

The gosling makes a tiny cheep as it glances off the cliff.

Karkat flinches and grips your knee, hissing curses in Alternian. His claws dig in hard enough to prick your skin and you bet they’ll be bruises later. You don’t really care right now.

“Dammit John, what the,” he says, mouth hardly moving and eyes not leaving the screen.

The baby bird hits the cliff and _bounces_.

You both wince and Karkat loses the second half of his sentence.

The gosling is _still falling_.

How is that even _possible_???

It hits the rocks again, tumbles. There’s no sound, not even background music. 

You can barely see it. It’s this tiny dark grey and white thing tumbling over the cliff side the same colour as the rocks around it, so tiny and—

You both wince as it bounces off another rock.

 _When will it ennddddddddd_ , oh GOD _please **stop**_.

The gosling hits the rocks again, and it’s not making any more noise.

It’s not making any more noise.

_Oh god **, why isn’t it making any noise.**_

It hits the bottom.

It’s like watching a train wreck, you barely dare to blink.

“ _Its parents are there to meet it_ ,” the narrator says.

The camera cuts to the baby goose, pudgy and alive and it makes tiny cheeps and looks perfectly okay.

You both sigh in relief and slump back against your backrests.

“Fuck you, John,” Karkat says weakly.

“Oh man, I didn’t think it’d be like that,” you laugh, just all tension escaping in a breathy nervous noise. “When it made those little cheeps when it hit the rocks, I swear inside I was going ‘ _noooooooooooooo’_.”

He whacks you on the side of the head and you swat back at him all friendly bro-like and he **_growls_** and hauls you out of the chair.

 “WHY the _fuck_ do you pull this shit,” he snaps, barely an inch from your face.

You bring your hands up and he gives you a bit more distance, but also more teeth in his snarl.

“Chill, Karkat it’s just a video alright? Sorry, I already said I didn’t know.”

“And I said I didn’t want to watch it, yet here we are!” he shouts.

“Then why did you!” you yell back.

Karkat’s all up in your face and you know what? It’s your apartment too, why should you have to give in over everything?

“Oh, so it’s come to _this_ ,” Karkat relishes the phrase, turns it over the points of his teeth with his tongue, and normally you’d laugh because it’s such a cliché villain line but not this time. Not with the yellow of Karkat’s eyes looking like hazard lights.

“Well, John, why did _you_ fucking _ask?_ In fact, just generally, why are you an annoying bulgechafing parasite? It’s like you can never give me a moment of the fucking night! Seriously, it’s ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Karkat, Karkat, Karkat this, Karkat that! Karkat, you’re so weird!  Karkat your culture is fucking dumb, _heheh **fucking** heh_!”

“Wow, rude! I don’t sound like that!” You put a hand between you and he grabs your wrist and sinks his claws in. They catch your skin and go deep.

“Hey!” you snap because _it hurts_. 

His eyes are almost all black now and he growls, deep. It’s not human at all, it rattles in his chest, harsh and resonant. It makes your hair stand on the back of your neck. He steps in. You’re about the same height, you’re maybe a little taller, but he’s looming.

“Karkat! Seriously, what the heck!” 

You pull back and he’s still buzzing, alien and strange and intimidating.

Blood beads from your skin and Karkat’s not taking it in at all, his eyes are fixed on your face. The red in his irises is just starting to come in, like little veins, almost deranged.

Bright red drips on the hem of your shirt.

You try to yank your hand away but his claws catch further in your skin and drag and you grit your teeth.

“Hey, **_seriously_**.” You frown. You snap your fingers just by the side of his face and he snarls some more, but his eyes refocus, go off to the side, go back to you, go down and catch on the bright spatter on your shirt.

“Can you please _let go_ of my arm so I can disinfect it, _thank you._ ”

He’s still staring your blood and his irises and pupils have gone small, but his fingers slowly uncurl and you extract your wrist from his claws.

You suddenly remember the one class you had so far on eye anatomy, and how troll irises contract weirdly, the muscle itself drawing some more elastic protein and harder plating in to protect the optic nerve in case of attack when shocked.

His lips move like he wants to say something but instead he makes this really small click sound. Just one, then he stops. Goes still.

Karkat looks like he woke up from a dream to find out he drowned a puppy, nauseous and lost. He doesn’t need to feel _that_ bad. You’re bleeding but you’re hardly going to need a hospital or even a doctor.

“Hey,” you say and you tap his shoulder, and he blinks. “Hey, _Karkat_. Hello?”

“Nn,” he acknowledges, a little dazed and mostly confused. “I…”

He makes a small motion in the direction of your wrist and your shirt and he draws his arms closer to himself. He looks a little bit scared and a lot worried.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you reassure him, and you pat him on the shoulder with your not-scratched up hand. Instead of snapping out of it he grimaces and looks even more confused.

“Hey, wanna snap out of it?” you ask.

“Yeah. I… I wasn’t expecting that. What should I…”

“Just pass me the tissues and I’ll go get the first aid box or something. It’s okay, it’s just a scratch and lucky, you got my left, so I’m still good for paper notes.”

He stays quiet and helps you disinfect and stick gauze over the wound. He’s still quiet and thoughtful and contrite when you’re done.

“What were you expecting anyway?” you say, to try and break the solemnity.

“What?” he says, distractedly.

“You said you weren’t expecting that. So, what were you expecting?”

“Oh,” Karkat says, and he’s breathing normally again but he takes time to think about this. 

“You act like you’re blue so,” Karkat says, and you get the feeling that that’s just a filler, and he’s not sure what it was or he won’t tell, so you decide to just let it go, so you say your piece too.

“Haha, nah, humans all have red blood! Haemoglobin.”

“I know, it’s just weird to see.” He makes a face, and it’s almost normal, and you grin.

“Hasn’t Dave bled in front of you though? I heard you guys filmed a shot with live blades the other day.”

“Dave is already red,” Karkat argues.

“You’re so weird, Karkat,” you say without thinking and then you bite your tongue because this is what set him off, urgh.

“ _Humans_ are weird,” he responds, but there’s no bite to it.

“Sorry, I guess you were right, I didn’t mean it like that.” You try to explain. “I mean, trolls are different, but you are like special weird. I don’t mean it in a _mean_ way, okay? I call Dave and Rose and Jade weird all the time too! Not _bad_ weird, but like, just weird.”

“Sure. Yeah,” Karkat says. It’s back to being bitter and sad and serious.

You just give the excuse that you want an early night and abscond to your room. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed my note, you can hover over the Alternian for translations. Alternatively, [chapter with translations in the text here.](http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/post/109390632715/integration-pt-2-7-homestuck-john-karkat)  
> For language geeks, [translation notes here](http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/post/109390637120/integration-pt-2-notes-homestuck-john-karkat). If there is demand I will parse translation notes to end notes here on AO3.  
> [Gosling video here](http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/post/107957048190/wtfevolution-what-if-these-barnacle-geese) in case you missed it.  
> The beta[ tonguerocker ](http://tonguerocker.tumblr.com/)did pretty art with perf expressions and you can [find it here](http://davesprites.tumblr.com/post/109391227869/the-gosling-throws-itself-off-the-cliff-heres)!


	3. Exams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red Johnkat endgame starts now.

 

 

—carcinoGeneticist [CG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB].—

CG: THIS CHAT CLIENT IS WOEFULLY INFERIOR TO TROLLIAN AND I CANNOT, FOR PITY OR FOR HATE, UNDERSTAND WHAT LAPSE OF JUDGEMENT WOULD MAKE YOU CHOOSE TO USE IT.  
EB: …karkat?  
CG: NICE DEDUCTION, HUMAN SHERLOCK.  
EB: i’m confused.  
EB: like, i don’t THINK i gave you my pesterchum handle.  
EB: and karkat doesn’t do sarcasm.  
EB: AND troll names have six letters!  
EB: who are you and why are you impersonating my buddy!  
EB: (heheheheheh)  
CG: JOHN, JUST BECAUSE YOU PUT SOMETHING IN CURVED CONTAINMENT SYMBOLS DOES NOT MEAN IT MAGICALLY DISAPPEARS FROM THE SCREEN ONCE YOU HIT ‘ENTER’.  
CG: SHERLOCK IS *CLEARLY* AN ADULT TITLE AND THEREFORE HAS EIGHT LETTERS AS PER REGULAR CONVENTION.  
CG: AND WE DO HAVE SARCASM. IT’S JUST ALSO CALLED TREADING A THIN LINE BETWEEN TRYING TO BE FUNNY AND ASKING FOR A FUCKING SUBJUGGULATOR CLUB TO THE PAN.  
EB: okay, that’s definitely karkat.  
EB: hi karkat.  
EB: what’s up?  
CG: YOU’RE HOME, RIGHT?  
EB: yup.  
EB: why?  
CG: DO YOU WANT HIPSTER COFFEE?  
CG: YOUR MOIRAIL DRAGGED ME INTO THIS PAINFULLY TRYING TOO HARD ESTABLISHMENT AND NOW ASSURES ME THAT YOU WOULD APPRECIATE ONE OF THESE SUSPICIOUSLY FLUFFY BEVERAGES.  
CG: BEVERAGES ARE NOT MEANT TO BE FLUFFY.  
CG: I NOW MUST LIVE IN FEAR OF STUMBLING ACROSS ONE OF THESE GREEN LABELLED MONSTROSITIES IN MY SHARED HIVE.  
CG: HOWEVER, IF IT GETS YOU AWAY FROM THE RAISED HORIZONTAL NUTRITION PLATEAU, I AM WILLING TO SUFFER IT.  
EB: oh, so you’re at starbucks?  
EB: also dave’s not my moirail, karkat.  
CG: john honey y u deny our relationship i am so sad  
CG: also karkles is getting you your caramel mocha thing so i grabbed his phone  
EB: hey dave!  
EB: did he lose a bet or something?  
CG: surprisingly no  
CG: mentioned you love the stuff and he started making funny faces  
CG: he said you havent seen light of day for like two weeks now  
CG: think you got him worried bro  
EB: has it really been two weeks already?  
EB: urgh i haven’t been keeping track of time.  
CG: havent been answering my texts either  
CG: but answering tokyo mewmews  
CG: i see so thats where we stand john  
CG: heads up you can expect the divorce papers any day now  
EB: haha yeah gotta study hard and get a good job.  
EB: i know it’s hard on you but think of the children!  
CG: the children miss you john  
CG: the children need their father  
CG: whens the paper  
EB: next week, saturday.  
CG: good luck  
EB: thanks.  
EB: i should get back to studying, bluh.  
CG: YES, AS OPPOSED TO FLOODING MY MOBILE COMMUNICATION DEVICE WITH INANITY DURING THE INTERVAL IN WHICH I PURCHASED THIS UNHOLY UNION OF CAFFEINE AND SUGAR.  
EB: pfft, okay.  
EB: thanks karkat, see you soon.

—ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]. -–

 

 

 

— ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: hey karkat, is the kfc for me or…?  
CG: JESUSFUCK JOHN, CAN’T YOU FUCKING READ?  
CG: OR DID I WASTE ONE SIXHUNDRETH OF A TREE CARCASS LEAVING A GODDAMN NOTE FOR YOU.  
EB: note?  
EB: oh, i see it now.  
EB: it fell off the table.  
EB: awww, nice note, thanks buddy. :)  
CG: YOU’RE WELCOME, DUMBASS.  
CG: ALSO, YOU COULD ACTUALLY TALK TO ME NEXT TIME INSTEAD OF TEXTING.  
CG: SEEING HOW I’M ABOUT A GRAND TOTAL OF TWENTY FUCKING STEPS AWAY.  
EB: wait, you’re home???  
CG: NICE OF YOU TO NOTICE.  
CG: YOU SAID ‘HEY KARKAT’ WHEN I GOT BACK.  
CG: WE HAD A CONVERSATION REVOLVING AROUND THE TOPIC OF ‘HOLY GRUBFUCKING HELL, HAVE YOU EATEN OR SLEPT IN THE LAST THREE DAYS’.  
EB: we did??????  
EB: gah, might be time to sleep then.  
CG: NO SHIT.  
CG: YOU’RE GOING TO WORK YOURSELF TILL YOU CONTRACT SOME DISEASE OTHERWISE.  
EB: woah, don’t say stuff like that!  
EB: it’s bad luck and my paper is like in four days.  
CG: EAT THE DAMN CLUCKBEAST AND HIT THE SOPOR, FUCKASS.  
EB: already on it, haha.  
EB: wow, i did not realise i was this hungry.  
EB: or that it was this late.  
EB: this chicken is really good.  
EB: thanks karkat.  
CG: YOU’RE WELCOME.

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]. –

 

 

 

— ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering turntechGodhead [TG].—

EB: emergency.  
EB: he’s being nice, help.  
TG: what the fuck john i nearly had a heart attack  
EB: hey, don’t blame me!  
EB: you’re the one who thought it would be funny to put a police siren as your message alert tone.  
TG: yeah past me is a dick lets move on  
TG: shit its too early for this  
EB: it’s noon?  
TG: im running on the same sleep schedule as karkles remember  
TG: noon is to me what four in the fucking am is to you  
TG: and apparently four in the fucking am is a good time to text your friend on how nice your roommate is  
TG: not that its not okay but just gogdammit john couldnt it wait a couple of hours  
EB: oh man, i totally forgot, sorry!  
EB: i’ll text you at about six then?  
TG: nah its kay im already awake might as well get the down and dirty  
TG: sup eggbutt my brodude  
TG: is karkles suddenly sprouting a backdrop of shojo manga flowers or some shit  
TG: has the sleep deprivation gotten you yet  
TG: am i gonna find first class front row tickets to an interspecies bl in my inbox  
TG: because if the answer is yes then congrats keep those tickets to yourself and mind the teeth goodnight  
EB: what????  
EB: i’m not sure if it’s me or you, but i didn’t understand any of that.  
EB: i guess we’re both sleep deprived haha.  
TG: ye  
TG: so what happened with the resident nubbymcshouty  
EB: so it’s really weird how nice karkat’s been lately.  
EB: at first i thought it might be because he felt bad about scratching me.  
EB: but it’s been nearly three weeks.  
EB: and like today he went to help me buy lunch.  
EB: as in he woke up and showered and went out to buy food and came back and watched me eat then went back to sleep.  
EB: it’s weird right???  
EB: he used to throw my food out and mix bugs in it and stuff!  
EB: did i scare him or something?  
EB: i got a little mad but i don’t think it should have scared him into being this nice to me.  
EB: especially not from three weeks ago.  
TG: its less scared than holy shit john is a sad lil fucker when hes a zombie  
EB: urghhh okay i know i look terrible.  
EB: i haven’t actually slept in my own bed the last two nights because I fell asleep at the table.  
EB: or on the floor.  
EB: actually, i think he tripped over me last week.  
EB: alternian swearing is really funny, he sounded like a grasshopper and a gecko fighting a pair of castanets in a tree.  
TG: pfft  
EB: so yeah, it’s just that he did a one eighty and it’s just really weirding me out.  
EB: i was thinking about just letting him know we’re chill, but that’s really awkward out of the blue.  
TG: nothing to worry about  
TG: just get more sleep before your exams  
EB: i have a really bad feeling about this paper too, bluh.  
EB: this sem just completely bulldozed me.  
TG: mm  
EB: haha, you sound barely awake.  
EB: i’ll let you go back to sleep.  
EB: talk to you later.  
TG: k

— ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG].—

 

===/\===

 

 

tentacleTherapist [TT] opened a memo on board Public service announcement.

TT invited ectoBiologist [EB] to memo.  
TT invited turntechGodhead [TG] to memo.  
TT invited gardenGnostic [GG] to memo.

TT: Hello all.  
TT: A gentle reminder that results are out today.  
TT: Also, a reminder that you are all invited to Kanaya’s and my dorm for dinner tonight, in presumptive optimism regarding abovementioned results, and for commiseration if otherwise.  
GG: thanks rose!!  
EB: yeah, thanks rose!  
EB: oh man, i am so not prepared to see results for this sem.  
TT: I have every confidence that you will do well, as you do every other semester, John.  
TG: dammit rose id just managed to forget how could you do this to me i thought you loved me i thought we had something  
TT: Alas Dave, I could not bring myself to impeach on your transcendental homoerotic broship with John.  
EB: woah, woah, where did that come from?  
TG: yeah im only the mistress his waifu is crabmeow  
TG: i is so sad  
TT: What a shame.  
TT: However, I believe that neither of us is qualified to deny the appeal of interspecies relationships.  
TG: true story  
GG: oh???  
GG: does that mean what I think it does? :)  
EB: yeah, what’s this, what’s this?  
TT: I had intended to save the news for after dinner, but I suppose there is no harm in telling you now.  
TT: However, I request that you all conduct yourselves with appropriate demeanour of surprise and approval upon my repeat announcement tonight.  
TT: I also request for you to keep this information private, as we are not quite ready to expose our relationship to the masses just yet.  
TT: Kanaya and I are going out, in the romantic sense of the phrase.  
GG: oh wow!!!  
GG: that’s so great, rose!  
GG: congratulations! :)  
EB: congrats rose!  
TG: called it  
TT: And of course, I called you out on your own soirees, dear brother.  
TG: yeah  
GG: alright fess up dave!  
TG: so im seeing terezi  
TG: shes a p cool troll chick whos doing law  
TG: fucking brilliant and also batshit crazy  
TG: yeah  
EB: wow, when were you going to tell us?  
TG: it was exams bro  
TG: was trying that being considerate shtick  
TT: Ah, but our examinations ended a good two weeks ago or more.  
TG: mine ended only ten days ago kay not all of us take pure lit  
TT: My apologies.  
TT: So you only neglected to tell us that you have been dating for three months over the last ten days.  
EB: THREE MONTHS?  
GG: three months!!!!!????????  
GG: that is super long!  
EB: that is waaaaaaay before exams started, man.  
TG: jesus christ rose announce my entire fucking life why dont you  
TT: That is my sole mission Dave, and i endeavour to do it to the best of my capabilities.  
TG: okay  
TG: so like  
TG: yeah weve been a thing for a while  
TG: but it was never a super concrete thing yknow  
TG: its just hey shes cool and we hung out a lot  
TG: and people were saying we were dating and we lol at them  
TG: then she says why not  
TG: and im like well fuck i cant think of why not  
TG: then she swept me off her feet with her shitty obsession with the colour red and her slaughter lawyer wiles  
TG: but it was a gradual thing at the same time  
TG: fuck this is not making sense it made sense when it happened i swear  
EB: suuuuure it did.  
TG: dammit john youre supposed to be supportive in this relationship  
EB: i’m supportive!  
EB: i’m really happy for you!  
TG: yeah thanks  
GG: yeah dave, congrats!  
TG: thx  
TT: Alright, now, with those pleasantries out of the way, shall we adjourn to check our results?  
TT: Additionally, we have yet to prepare dinner, so I should probably start on that promptly.  
GG: right!  
GG: see you all later!

GG ceased responding to memo.

TG: yeah gonna do that thing  
TG: casually ollie the fuck out of this friendly interrogation

TG ceased responding to memo.

EB: yup, bye rose!

EB ceased responding to memo.

 

 

Wow, your friends are all getting together with troll girls. You feel so proud of them. All like, yeah, my friend is totally awesome and I’m glad you recognise how amazing they are!

Huh, so maybe this is what Dad is always getting at when he asks you if you have a girlfriend yet.

Heh, what if you got together with a troll girl? Man, people would stare. Your neighbourhood didn’t have a lot of trolls. Or any trolls, really.

You suppose that’s why Karkat had major problems with you when you first started sharing a flat.

In hindsight, there were moments you were kind of a huge asshole. Like the bucket on door thing. And the lights thing. And the startle-thing.

In your defence, you used to find it really funny when Karkat ended up on the ceiling all fluffy and clicky-swearing at you. He’s gets so creative it never gets old.

Still, kind of assholish. Especially since Karkat’s been so nice. You feel kind of bad about it.

You log into the school portal and enter your name and ID. Student record, student record.

Loading.

Yup, so these were your grades and… 

Oh.

…

_Shit_.

 

The door clicks open. You minimise the window and smile weakly over your shoulder.

Karkat shuffles out in a towel, hair plastered down with green goop. He grumbles something and looks toward the window. His words are lost in the whisper of rain just starting up. 

“Hey,” you manage.

“ _Nnnrh_ ,” he grunts and he halfheartedly flips you off as he trails slime to the bathroom.

The door slams and you hear water.

You open the page again. Refresh.

You open an excel page, to plug in the values.

You check the functions twice.

…

Hahaha, you’re so fucked.

You fucked up.

But

_where_.

Where did you fuck up? How did it go wrong?

You tried.

You tried _really hard._

The bathroom door snaps shut and Karkat takes the chair next to you and melts onto the table, eyes closed and cheek pressed to the surface.

“So fucking tired,” he grumbles.

You force a smile.

“Then why are you awake? It’s like, two.”

“The nookfondling pisssack I call my best friend called to very snidely inform me that he’d post my grades on the school website if I didn’t wake up and check them for myself.”

“What a fricking _asshole_ ,” you say, and it came out with more venom than you intended.

Karkat cracks an eye open.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you respond.

His gaze flickers to your laptop and you snap it shut.

“Really,” he says flatly.

“Yes,” you bite out, and you regret it immediately when Karkat’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sorry. Maybe not all alright, but still okay enough. Bluh.”

“Grades?” he asks.

“Mm.”

“Can I see?”

You open your laptop and shove it vaguely in his direction. He drags himself up and squints to read. His pupils contract against the white of the screen.

“Yeah,” you say to break the silence.

“Aren’t these good?” Karkat asks, confused, and suddenly, you’re unbelievably annoyed because that’s not—

“Yes! No! No, not in med! I – ** _arghhhh_**!” 

Karkat’s eyebrows go up even further.

“Breathe, fuckass,” he says.

“ _Don’t **fucking** refer to me with a swear word_!” you snarl and you’re this close to socking him

It’s terrible. You know it’s terrible, somewhere in the back of your mind, but you’re _so mad_ and you don’t know at what and he’s _really not helping_.

You feel like trash. The kind of trash that isn’t funny like the way Dave uses the word. You feel like the kind of trash that takes out their failure on their friends.

Like you’re doing _right now_.

Karkat blinks and he has his hands up, palms toward you, between you, like he’s surrendering except he’s concerned you’d punch him.

You actually might and you hate it.

Karkat leans back and he looks at you with surprise and you can’t look at him.

“Right,” he says, lost. “John.”

“Karkat.” You respond snidely. It’s a dick move and you _know_ Karkat’s being nice, but you want to shout and kick things and throw your notes through a shredder. You need to punch a wall or _do **something**_ but it’s not like you’re twelve anymore so you don’t. Instead you sit there and be an asshat to your really awesome roommate.

You _know_ and you can’t stop yourself so that just makes it worse.

Ugh ugh ugh ugh _ughhhhhhh_.

“Right,” Karkat says again and this time it’s vaguely businesslike. “So, concisely, what’s the problem?”

“My frikking grades,” you groan through your teeth and you bury your face in your hands.

“Your lowest grade is a B minus, John.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It’s not the end of the world.”

“I know.”

“Your GPA is still ridiculously high compared to the rest of us.”

“I _know_ , Karkat, that’s not the problem. None of that is the problem!”

“You just said ‘my frikking grades’, square containment symbol ‘are the problem’ close square containment symbol.”

You kick away from the table. The chair drags loudly across tile and Karkat winces, baring teeth at the volume.

“ _I fucked up_ , okay?” you announce. You still can’t look at him without feeling bad at the faces he’s making. He’s _worried for you_ , his expressions are so easy they hurt. “I shouldn’t be getting Bs, I don’t get Bs, and I don’t know! I don’t _know_.”

“Bs are good, John.”

He’s _not listening_.

“It’s _different_ , we’re different, B is below average, who the fuck even gets Bs, this _**sucks**_.”

“It’ll be alright,” Karkat says, and his hands are still between you, but slightly out to the sides now, a little more open and a little less defensive. “You have the entirety of four years to pull up your cap.”

You bury your face in your hands. Your glasses get in the way. You pull them off with one hand and throw them on the table.

“ _Oh my god_ , I need to drag my cap back up and _oh god_ I have to tell Dad, he’s going to text and ask and _fuck my **life**_. Why.”

You hear Karkat straighten and lean forward a little. You hear the wind hurtling rain through the dorms.

You feel like you’re made of sparks and about to burn, but you’re cold.

The air is so cold and the apartment is dark.

“Will he be pissed off?” Karkat asks very seriously, like Dad would ever—

“No!” You drag your hands up your face and through your hair. “No! He’s going to look at his phone, go really quiet thinking about it, nod and type back, ‘son I’m proud of you as long as you tried your best’. But inside he’d have been expecting better! It’s just—just— _rnghhhhhhhhh_!”

Karkat shifts.

“I see the exact opposite of a problem here,” he says slowly.

“No, no,” you say and you drag your hands over your face and through your hair again. “You’re not getting it, Karkat. I could get literal Fs and he would still say the same thing.”

He rests back of one hand on the table inside your field of vision.

Rod photoreceptors don’t pick up colour. It’s dark enough that everything is almost grey, and all the edges are blurry too because your degree is ridiculously high. The edges of Karkat’s hand merge into the table.

“That’s okay,” he says slowly, firmly.

It gets colder. You feel small.

You grip his hand like you’re arm-wrestling but you’ve already won.

He’s warm.

“It’s not okay,” you say. “Don’t okay me, I could get literal Fs, F for _massive failure_ and he would still. Say. The same. Thing. He won’t get mad, he’ll be _disappointed_ , and then he’ll try not to be. I wish he’d get mad. _I’m_ mad. This _sucks_.”

Karkat takes in a long breath through his teeth.

“Alright, this is the point where I’m going to stop trying to understand. John,” he says on the exhale, and he pulls you to face him. “Do you need a hug.”

(The first time you tried to give Karkat a friendly brohug, you got head butted in the solar plexus and a rant on personal space and how trolls are naturally violent and thus need more.)

You smile at him. It takes actual effort because your face keeps twitching a frown into place.

“Personal space?” you try to joke.

“I’ll live,” Karkat says drolly.

Karkat’s so nice, all the nice, you don’t deserve this much nice. Your heart swells but it’s cold and tingles cold on the back of your shoulders and your arms.

You launch yourself at him, and he nearly falls out of his chair and there’s this awkward scuttling of legs and yelping. You both stay standing only by a miracle. He’s warm even through his long sleeve shirt and his wet hair prickles against your face and ear.

Karkat’s hug starts off really terrible. He’s tense like a cardboard cutout and you feel a little bad, but then he slowly relaxes and sinks into the hug too. He’s just a bit shorter than you and he turns his face into you, so his cheekbone flattens your ear. 

Karkat’s arms settle around you.

Out the window everything is white, and loud like sand—not the _pitter-patter_ of kindergarten movies but _sha-sha-sha_ , the torrential downpour of Chinese legend.

The apartment feels like another place, somewhere strange and distant and lonely. Except you have Karkat, who’s patting your back and making halting clicking noises and hugging you tighter every time he realises his grip is slipping.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think it’s going to flood for sure.

 

 

Karkat shifts his shoulder a little and you realise resting your chin there couldn’t be comfortable for him.

“Sorry,” you mumble and pull away a little.

“It’s fine,” Karkat says gruffly. He ruffles your hair and pulls you back.

You let him, and hug him tight once more, then let go.

“Sorry,” you say again. “I’m okay. Thanks.”

You stand apart, but he holds you at an arm’s length, hands on your waist and eyes searching your face.

“Okay,” he says. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to sit here, and not move. That shouldn’t be too hard. Don’t fucking move and I mean it, I will know.”

He looks so serious about it, it’s hilarious. 

You snicker and he makes this face like he doesn’t know whether to get mad or to be relieved.

“This is the plan, so listen up. I am going to get ice cream and make coffee, and then we are going to watch your dumb shit Niklas Kaydje movie for the hundred millionth time and you will be fine, got it fuckass—… John. Fuck, sorry. John.”

“We don’t have ice cream.”

“We will in forty minutes.”

“You’re going to buy ice cream now?”

“That’s what I just implied, yes.”

“It’s raining.” (A generous understatement.)

"So I’ll bring a water resistant protective covering.”

You want to protest but he pats you on the arm and well, ice cream would be nice.

“Thanks,” you say.

He nods.

“Sit here and watch meowbeast videos or something,” he says like it’s a war mission and you laugh.

You don’t watch cat videos, but you listen to the Piano Guys and read through the daily devotions your Dad sends you but you usually only glance at.

He comes back with four pints of Ben and Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk, and he only starts taking jibes at Nic Cage forty five minutes into Con Air.

(You can’t thank God enough for him.)


	4. Pancakes

 

Movie nights become a Thing. You watch on Fridays when you’re done with school work and he’s back from the early night class, and you take turns picking out movies and cringing through the ones you didn’t.

 

—carcinoGeneticist [CG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB].—

CG: WHY ARE MY CLASSMATES PANROTTEN SHITS?  
CG: DID THEIR LUSII STEP ON THEM WHEN THEY WERE YOUNGER?  
CG: IF THIS FUCKASS OPENS HIS MOUTH ONE MORE TIME, I WILL GIVE HIM A STANDING FUCKING OVATION THEN PROCEED TO RIP OFF HIS BULGE AND MAKE HIM EAT IT WITH A SIDE OF THE LECTURE NOTES HE OBVIOUSLY DIDN’T READ.  
CG: YOU’D THINK HE’D LEARN TO *ACTUALLY READ THE MATERIAL* IF HE’S GOING TO SHOOT HIS MOUTH OFF IN CLASS.  
CG: AT LEAST DAVE HAS THE DECENCY TO DRAW HIS SHITTY DICK COMICS WITHOUT FORCING EVERYONE TO RECAP BASIC CRAP THAT WAS ALREADY COVERED JUST YESTERNIGHT.  
CG: THE PARTICIPATION GRADE SYSTEM IS NEARLY AS PAINFULLY FLAWED AS THE INTEGRATION POLICY.  
CG: AND I HAD SUCH HIGH HOPES THAT WE WOULD END ON TIME TODAY.  
CG: JOHN?  
EB: sorry for the late reply, was in the shower.  
EB: give me a minute to read that.  
EB: aw, alright.  
EB: i have an essay to do anyway, so i can wait.  
EB: we’re going to watch season of the witch tonight.  
EB: it’s a nic cage!   
EB: so nic cage is a knight and he’s gotta transport a witch because they think her powers are causing the plague and it’s spooky and stuff.  
EB: should be pretty cool.  
CG: JOHN, LET ME REPHRASE MY EARLIER PLAINTIVE DESPAIR INTO A MORE DIRECT SENTENCE.  
CG: IN A SHORT, EASY TO UNDERSTAND PHRASE:  
CG: THIS GRUBFUCKING CULLBAIT MAY NEVER SHUT UP, DON’T WAIT.  
EB: i really don’t mind waiting though.  
EB: like i said, i’ve got an essay to do, and i’m kind of on a roll.  
EB: though i don’t mind starting first once my brain goes bluh on me.  
EB: so you can just join me whenever if i’m still watching by the time you get back.  
CG: IT’S BEEN FOUR ENTIRE HOURS.  
CG: STRIDER VERIFIED.  
CG: CLASS IS *STILL* DRAGGING.  
CG: I AM *THIS CLOSE* TO STABBING MYSELF WITH A RULER SO THAT MY NOBLE FLESH WOUND CAN BUY ME A TRIP TO THE INFIRMARY, AND ALSO A TICKET OUT OF ‘BEAT THE DEAD SOCIAL JUSTICE HOOFBEAST UNTIL IT MIRACULOUSLY STANDS UP AND STARTS PRANCING AROUND AGAIN’ LAND.  
CG: I COULD HAVE FREEDOM FOR THE SMALL PRICE OF PAIN, BLOOD, AND ETERNAL SHAME.  
CG: AND BY ETERNAL I MEAN PROBABLY FOR THE TWO YEARS LEFT UNLESS GRADUATION OR LESS.  
CG: THE PROSPECT BECOMES MORE APPEALING WITH EVERY PASSING SECOND.  
EB: haha, hang in there buddy.  
EB: if it makes you feel any better, i’m working on a research paper and it’s really painful too.  
CG: WHY THE FUCK WOULD HEARING THAT YOU ARE MISERABLE MAKE ME ANY LESS MISERABLE.  
EB: dunno, some sort of solidarity?  
EB: brothers in suffering, that kind of thing.  
EB: schadenfreude?  
EB: anyway, I guess I’ll see you when you get home.  
CG: IF I EVER FUCKING GET HOME.  
EB: pfft, no need to be so dramatic karkat.  
EB: okay, need to work on my paper.  
CG: YEAH.

—ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]. –

 

 

Karkat isn’t back by the time your brain stopped processing words as meaning instead of black letters on your screen. You start the movie without him, and it opens with the hanging of three witches. Spooky stuff. So…

 

You wake to the door slamming and muffled cursing.

“S’at you, Karkat?” you ask. Gosh, when did you drift off? You’re going to have to start the movie again. It’s okay though, because Karkat hasn’t seen the beginning anyway. 

Karkat appears at your door.

“Fuck,” he says. It’s a reflex, you don’t think he notices he swears as much as he does. “Yeah, did I wake you up?”

“Mmm yeah, but I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you yawned and sat up in your bed. “What time is it?”

“Almost three am,” he frowns. “We ended at one. Fuck, I thought you’d be asleep already, so I ate with Gamzee.”

“S’okay. You wanna go shower and I’ll set up the movie?”

“Shouldn’t you sleep?” he asks, sceptically.

“Nah, I slept a little. Besides, there’s no school tomorrow. We’re good. Everything is good.” You give him a thumbs up and he makes his tiny ‘I AM GRUMPY KING I am trying not to smile oh no I can’t’ smile and shakes his head.

“Fine. If you’re sure.”

“I am sure, Karkat. I am _all_ the sure.”

He rolls his eyes and you hear his room door and then the bathroom door and then water…

…

… and Karkat knocking on the drawer next to your bed.

“I’m awake,” you groan. He snorts.

“Yes John, you’re awake _now_ , after I woke you up. If you’re going to sleep, you should unplug your laptop. You’re going to burn your bulge off.”

“What? No, since I’m awake, we should-” you yawn and the yellow of Karkat’s eyes gleam in the low light. “We should thing.”

“Right,” he says and he lifts your laptop up, holds it in one hand. “And you won’t fall off your chair while watching, assuming that you’re willing to walk to the table.”

Bluh, he’s right. Table was far. Floor was cold. You were soooo comfortable. Why was the bed so comfortable.

“We can watch here,” you suggest, shifting over to make space for him. “Problem solved. C’mon.”

Silence.

Karkat blinks down at you.

You pat the bed and look at him meaningfully. And sleepily.

“Are you serious?” he asks, like he’s expecting a whoopee cushion when he sits. Hey, that’s actually a good idea. A little bit mean to Karkat though. Karkat takes a lot of things waaaay too seriously.

“It’s kay,” you say, and you pull his shirt so his knees touch the bed. “Oh, you might want to grab my fan table thingy so you don’t, what, ‘burn your bulge off’. Heheheh.”

“John,” he starts but then he stops.

“Fan thingy,” you prompt. “Just stretch and grab it from next to my bag.”

He grips your laptop and the profile of his face is nervous.

“Hey,” you say, and he turns his face a little. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he says, and he grabs the fan thing. “But I categorically refuse to watch Niklas Kaydje horror with you if you’re just going to fall asleep.”

“I won’t fall asleep!” you protest. “Besides, it’s my turn to pick.”

“Yeah, no. That’s what you _say_ but half an hour into this disaster, you’re going to be snoring like a beached whale with laryngitis.”

“Wow, rude,” you say, and you elbow him a little. “I don’t snore.”

 “You don’t know that because you’re asleep,” he shoots back. He holds out a hard drive. “I’m not going to suffer for nothing. And I so happen to have the cinematic _masterpiece_ that is ‘The Vow’ with me right now. Serenfuckingdipity, John. You don’t fuck with serendipity.”

“Cheater,” you grumble. “You _planned_ this!” 

“You can sleep instead,” Karkat replies.

“Noooo, it’s movie night. C’mon and lie down properly already. Cheater.” 

He settles carefully and sets up his movie.

Your bed is meant for one, but you’re both not very big guys and you fit just fine when your shoulders press into each other, and you fit even better with an arm around him.

Of course Karkat’s movie is a romcom with no action at all. Karkat grips your hand during the car crash and makes sad cricket noises a lot.

Karkat’s a cuddler, which is really unexpected, especially since he’s weird about hugs. He hugs you and looks at the screen from the corner of his eye.  You don’t really get why he likes these movies if they make him sad, but you’re okay with hugs. Hugs are nice and Karkat is super huggable, cause he’s just a tiny bit smaller than you, and compact and warm. 

You don’t remember the movie ending but you remember his four beat pulse under your palms when you hug him back, and thinking that it was rhythmic and soothing.

 

 

You wake up to early morning sunlight under your curtains and Karkat breathing on your collarbones, hand on your waist and leg half over yours.

“Hey Karkat buddy,” you say. You try to extract your arm and your torso but nope.

“Heyyy,” you say again, and pat him on the shoulder. “Karkat.” 

“Zhann,” he says without opening his eyes. His accent is really thick when he’s half asleep, and your name comes out all buzzy. He pats your chest then his hand comes up to thumb your jaw and scratch the back of your neck. He has _claws_ , actual rip your skin off claws, pricking into the knots in your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that they exist. Tingles run down your spine, all over your skin. 

Karkat breathes something that’s all soft crickety noises, and your name. You don’t know what he’s saying but it’s quiet and heavy and fragile. Important.

He shifts and holds you tighter.

“Karkat?” you ask.

“Mmmnh?” he goes, and he breathes and his lips brush the side of where your neck joins your shoulders, gentle and fleeting.

You’re suddenly, devastatingly terrified.

“Hey Karkat, uh, your hair is tickling me so, yup. Anyway, it’s morning. Hi. Get up?”

Karkat doesn’t move, and for a second you think maybe he was still asleep, but then he shifts again. 

“Can I stay?” he asks.

His voice is so quiet and desperately hopeful. He’s not looking at you but his eyes are open now, and he’s staring straight at the slivers of light under the curtains. He’s tense, and he sounds like your answer is the only thing in the world that matters.

You couldn’t break that much gravitas even if you tried.

“Yeah,” you say.

 

===/\===

 

You eventually extract yourself from Karkat’s hug to run to the bathroom (cold floor coldfloorr coldfloor coldcoldcold) and get breakfast.

Very sadly, there is no more cereal. You only remember that when you open the cupboard and don’t find the box. Well, you were related to one of the biggest baking companies in the world, so you put on your metaphorical pants (because you were already in pj pants) and started whipping up pancake batter.

Karkat emerges from your room, squinting and trailing a hand along the walls.

“John?” he asks the kitchen.

“Hey!” you greet back.  “Want pancakes? I really hope you say yes because I already made you some. Maple syrup and butter are on the table.”

Karkat finds his way to the table and peers at the newspaper.

“You keep feeding me junk food. I’m going to get sick,” he says, but it’s just a token protest. Still, you wave your spatula at him in an offended manner.

“Excuse you, did you just call my pancakes junk? I’ll have you know they are delicious _and_ nutritious.”

Karkat snorts and you break into laughter.

“Delude yourself whatever way you want, John.”

“It’s the truth! Look, butter is great. Maple syrup is also great. And I made the batter from scratch! You have to try it.” You cut a square piece off your own plate (you have the bad habit of eating while you cook) and cross the two steps to him.

“Say aah,” you instruct. 

Karkat’s eyes nearly cross to look at the little square of pancake on the end of the fork. He opens his mouth and takes the piece delicately.

“Well?” you ask as he chews.

“Good,” he says with great (and fake, you’re good at telling now) reluctance and you grin. 

“Great! Here, this plate is for you, help yourself to the maple syrup and butter.” 

You hand a plate to Karkat and he takes it. He looks down at it, places it on the table, then looks you in the eyes. His expression is solemn and gentle like you’ve never seen before. You think this isn’t too bad a look on him, even thought it would be even nicer if he smiled more, and Karkat leans forward and brushes his lips against yours.

He tastes of butter and syrup, and the edges of his teeth press against your lips.

Karkat is so close his nose touches yours, and his lips are soft and cool and a little stickysweet and you—

can’t—

 _breathe_ —

can’t think—

Karkat’s eyes open and he pulls back. Your heart is racing and you feel a little dizzy.

He’s watching you with a careful eye, the softness melting into suspicion with every passing second. You crack a smile, but your mind is whirling colour and numbness.

“Okay,” you say. “Wow, haha, I… was not expecting that.”

Karkat doesn’t say anything, he just watches you and his eyes become sharper, harder.

“Well,” you carry on, taking half a step back and half a turn away. “This is awkward. But, uh, jeez. Okay, so, I don’t know if I told you before, but I’m not a—”

“Homosexual,” Karkat finishes for you, with a hard click to the word. He draws back and swallows, breathes. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Um well, yeah,” you add lamely. “Right, trolls don’t have that right? I could, I don’t know, explain if you want?”

“No need.”

Karkat takes half a step back away too, turns a little away.

You touch his shoulder.

“Hey,” you say and make a small smile. “We’re cool, right?”

He looks down at your hand and the hardness in his expression snaps away suddenly and he gives you the smallest smile back.

“What the fuck kind of question is that, John?” he says and you’re so relieved.

“Okay, that’s good,” you say. “But like, for future reference, bros don’t kiss bros in human culture, kay? Especially not suddenly like that. It’s kinda not cool, you could get into trouble for harassment and stuff.”

“Sorry,” he says, and he curls his fingers over the back of the chair. “Note taken, and my shitastic word it won’t happen again.”

He sounds really distracted and you frown.

“Karkat, seriously though. I don’t want you to get into trouble just because of some cultural differences or anything. You could go to jail.”

He tosses his head.

“I _understand_ intimately and painfully, alright, John?” he snaps. “Thank you for your concern. Yes, why don’t we just attribute this mass locomotive transport vehicle wreck to “some cultural differences”. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a thesis on this very topic to write. It will be long and have enough exposition to perforate a lusus gallbladder and make said lusus cry a goddamn river.”

Karkat’s back to grumpy, and though it’s not what you _like_ seeing from your buddy, grumpy is normal and you relax.

“Well, if it’s for your research paper, you could have asked,” you suggest. His eyes scrunch tight and he shakes his head sharply. 

“Thank you for that offer,” Karkat says lowly, his accent coming in to contort the syllables and truncate the vowels. “Your selfless contribution to the frontier of human-troll interspecies interactions is _so. Fucking._ Appreciated.”

His hands hover over the pancakes you made for him, and he snags the plate, the entire bottle of maple syrup, and a butter knife.

He takes a step away from the table, hesitates and turns. The light from the window on the far end catches the gentle curve of his cheek and horns. He looks you in the eyes with his hands full and his expression is somewhere between accusatory and broken.

“I’ll be in my room,” he says. “Thanks for the pancakes.”

 


	5. Phone

—turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB]. –

TG: ping  
TG: yeah my ping brings all the fuckin boys to the yard  
TG: except you apparently   
TG: were meant to be diamz john bby dont leave me in my time of need  
EB: hey dave.  
EB: … grooooooooan.  
EB: i can’t believe that you’re doing the quadrants thing too!  
EB: isn’t it bad enough that all the people in school think we’re together?  
TG: what you sayin egbert are you saying you don’t love me no more   
TG: such hurt very ow  
EB: daaaaaaaave.  
TG: joooooooohn  
EB: what did you want to talk about?  
TG: right you wanna tell me why karkles has a fucking truckton of empty carbs in a candy empire bag  
EB: no idea.  
EB: but i guess everyone goes on a junk food binge once in a while?  
TG: dude so not the point here  
EB: am i missing something?  
EB: i feel like i’m missing something.  
TG: who is the one studying to become a doctor here me or you  
EB: we haven’t done troll modules yet, give me a break.  
TG: right break given like fucks arent  
TG: sugar is to trolls what alcohol is to people  
TG: faygo is the shitty neon troll bacardi 151   
TG: now that you have been enlightened courtesy of yours truly take a moment to think about what i opened this convo for  
EB: … oh my god, why’s karkat binge eating sugar!?  
TG: yeah that was the thing i was just asking you but hold on i might get divine inspiration any second now  
EB: i can’t think of anything.  
EB: he was still okay yesterday and this morning.  
EB: ohhhh wait.  
EB: he’s freaking out a bit about your paper.  
EB: but still, “drinking” is kinda irresponsible.  
TG: we dont have a paper  
EB: wait, what?  
EB: but he kissed me this morning and said it was for his cross cultural research paper thing!   
EB: also we watched a movie last night in my room and he cried but i fell asleep and stuff.  
EB: but that’s not the point.  
TG: jegus where do i even start with that john  
EB: start on what, dave!  
TG: excuse me i think i need to walk outside and find a literal palm tree to smash my face into  
EB: knock it off.   
EB: so a friendly bro planted one on me in the name on science.  
EB: i’m cool with that.  
EB: neither of us is gay.  
TG: and the nile is just a river in egypt  
EB: denial of WHAT.  
TG: john  
TG: johnathon egbert  
TG: john my man my dudebro  
TG: karkat is fucking in love with you  
EB: what?  
EB: no way!  
TG: and while im at it let me just take this another notch up  
TG: put it all out on the table like a dealer in vegas  
TG: you like him back so thats why you get mopey and ask me where he is  
TG: sheesh its like im air flight control central and youre the guy with the delayed connecting due before you can leave  
TG: like when is the planekat coming back dave i need to know for non homosexual reasons  
EB: you’re just imagining things, karkat and me are just bros.  
TG: uhuh  
TG: and your movie dates?  
EB: sheesh can’t two bros watch movies without being called gay?  
EB: i mean, he likes movies, i like movies.  
EB: it’s a good way to de-stress.  
TG: i know another thing you guys could do to de-stress  
EB: … did you just…  
TG: eyup  
EB: grossssss!  
EB: i would send an emoticon but pesterchum has nothing that fits. :(  
TG: my one mission in life oh hella yeah go dave who da man you da man  
EB: okay, besides all your totally wrong conjecture, is karkat going to be alright?  
TG: i dont know all he does is hiss alternian at people today and cradle his sweets and a bottle of maple syrup like a sugar addicted dragon guarding its hoard  
EB: let me know how he is?  
TG: ye gotcha live update kat watch at your service  
EB: thanks.  
TG: np

—turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]. –

—turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB]. –

TG: houston we have a problem  
EB: that was fast.  
EB: what happened?  
TG: the clownrail picked your boy up from class  
TG: kat watch is cancelled due to weather conditions being hella fuck off with a ninety five percent chance of murder  
EB: hmm.  
EB: okay i guess i’ll message karkat directly.  
TG: john wait

— ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]. –

— ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: hey karkat you okay?  
EB: i heard from dave that you’re feeling down and stuff.  
EB: wanna watch a movie when you get back?  
EB: i know it’s saturday but hey, that means you’re okay after your makeup class right?

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum.—

EB: right, you’re probably still writing your paper.  
EB: sorry for disturbing.  
EB: hope you feel better soon, buddy.

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] is online.—

EB: karkat!  
EB: heyy!  
CG: sup brother  
CG: you are a brave motherfucker  
CG: SHOW ALL OUT HERE YOUR BOLD MOTHERFUCKING FUCK YOUR FACE  
EB: uh, what?  
CG: i say you break down on the side of the corner of my diamond break your motherfucking head  
CG: YOU GUESS HOW MOTHERFUCKER  
EB: okay, i’m guessing you aren’t karkat so…  
EB: uh, gamzee?

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum.—

EB: okay.  
EB: if karkat’s with you, can you just tell him we hope he feels better soon?

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] is online.—

CG: WHAT THE FUCK, JOHN.  
CG: WHO THE FUCK IS ‘WE’.  
CG: ARE YOU USING ROYAL PRONOUNS NOW?  
CG: IN WHICH CASE, WHO THE FUCK DIED AND MADE YOU KING OF ANYTHING.  
EB: hi karkat!! :D  
EB: is that a reference?  
CG: NO.  
CG: I  
CG: GODDAMN IT IS.  
EB: hehehehe  
EB: anyway, are you okay?  
CG: YES.  
CG: I’M FINE.  
CG: IN FACT, I AM SO ‘OKAY’ THAT I COULD GET KNOCKED OUT AND IT WOULD DO A REACHAROUND TO COME BACK TO THIS PLANE OF CONSCIOUSNESS REVERSED.  
EB: …?  
EB: uh, okay, that’s… good, i guess.  
EB: anyway, when are you getting home?  
CG: …WHY.  
EB: because it’s DEFINITELY my turn to pick a movie this time, haha.  
CG: OH.  
CG: … I DON’T KNOW.  
EB: mm, kay.  
EB: let me know?  
CG: YEAH. OKAY.  
CG: THANKS.  
EB: awesome!  
EB: see you. :D

— ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

You wait at the kitchen table with your laptop that night, but fall asleep before Karkat gets back. When you wake up, his beat up grey sneakers aren’t there and the floor between his room and the bathroom is dry.

===/\===

— ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: hey karkat, do you have your keys with you?  
EB: i noticed you didn’t come back yesterday, and well, there are a set of keys on the table.

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum.—

EB: yikes i need to leave now, but if you need the house key, well, you have my number.  
EB: see you!

— ectoBiologist [EB] an idle chum.—

— ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: noticed you’re not back yet, so uh, don’t know if you got my last message.  
EB: it’s got the little blue ticks so i guess you did but maybe forgot?  
EB: haha, i totally get it, man, i forget to reply all the time.  
EB: proooobably not a thing to be proud of.

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum.—

EB: idle still, huh.  
EB: anyway, if you need the keys, lemme know?  
EB: i’ll be in class, but prof mann is really cool. if you message me i should be able to pass my keys to you first if you need to get home.  
EB: just promise not to lock me out, okay?  
EB: heheh

— ectoBiologist [EB] is an idle chum.—

— ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: hey buddy, you there?  
EB: i’m starting to get kinda worried.  
EB: like, you’re okay right?  
EB: i mean, dave said you didn’t go for classes today.  
EB: okay, so more like last night, but the point is, that’s not like you!  
EB: and you have a class part component to max out.

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum.—

EB: plus it would be nice to hear that you’re okay.  
EB: get back to me soon?  
EB: i’ll leave my phone on and everything.

— ectoBiologist [EB] is an idle chum.—

— ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: karkat i’m getting seriously worried here.  
EB: like i’m going to call you and probably wake you up and i’ll feel REALLY TERRIBLE about that but i think i’m still going to go ahead and do it anyway if you don’t reply soon. D:

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] is online.—

CG: KEEP YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, JOHN.  
CG: I’M FINE.  
EB: KARKAT!!!  
EB: :D :D :D  
EB: oh man, am i glad to hear from you.  
EB: i was starting to think you were kidnapped or something.  
EB: … trollnapped?  
EB: mm that sounds kind of dumb.  
EB: but heyyyyyyyyyy!! :D  
CG: OKAY, FIRST, YOU ARE NOT, NEVER HAVE BEEN, AND NEVER WILL BE MY HUMAN KEEPER. I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF LOOKING AFTER MYSELF AND THIS MAY COME AS A SURPRISE, HOLD ONTO YOUR CARTILAGE NUB, BUT THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I DID BEFORE WHATEVER POWERS BE DECIDED HARDEEHARHAR LET’S THROW KARKATAT THIS BLUE EYED HUMAN FUCKER AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS.   
CG: SPOILER, MY ABILITY TO TAKE CARE OF MYSELF DID NOT MAGICALLY UP AND DISAPPEAR.  
CG: POSSIBLY ATTRIBUTABLE TO THE FACT THAT MAGIC ISN’T REAL.  
CG: BUT I DIGRESS.  
CG: SECOND.  
CG: ONE WOULD THINK, BEING AT THE TOP 99TH PERCENTILE OF ENTRANTS TO THIS ESTEEMED UNIVERSITY, YOU OF ALL PEOPLE WOULD *INFER* THAT I WAS AT MY MOIRAIL’S HIVE.  
CG: THE STUDIO AUDIENCE IS TORN BETWEEN LAUGHTER BECAUSE YOU MISSED THIS HIDEOUSLY OBVIOUS CONCLUSION, AND SCANDALISED GASPS AT SOMEONE REMAINING UNCONTACTABLE AT THEIR MOIRAIL’S HIVE FOR THREE DAYS.  
CG: HINT FOR THE CULTURALLY IMPAIRED FUCKASS, IT WAS *SCANDALOUSLY PALE*.  
CG: *THIRD*.  
CG: I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT THAT ITS REALLY FUCKING RUDE TO DEMAND MY ATTENTION LIKE A HUNGRY LUSUS THEN IMMEDIATELY GET DISTRACTED BY THE NEAREST SHINY OBJECT, ALSO RATHER LIKE A LUSUS.  
CG: THANKS A LOT FOR THAT, FUCKASS.  
EB: what?  
EB: no, i’m here!  
EB: i was just thinking that you were on a roll and that it’s been a while since i saw one of your text rants, so i kinda let it grow.  
CG: WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT.  
CG: DO YOU SECRETLY PUMP YOUR BULGE TO VERBAL ABUSE OR SOMETHING BECAUSE HOLY FUCK JOHN, IF THE ANSWER IS YES, I *DON’T WANT TO KNOW*.  
EB: oh yeah, please shout at me some more mister vantas.  
EB: i’m swooning sooooo hard right now.  
EB: (heheheheh)  
CG: YOU LITTLE *NOOKSUCKING SHITSTAIN*.  
CG: EVERY GODDAMN TIME YOU ATTEMPT TO “PRANK” SOMEONE, YOU PUT THAT DUMB LAUGH IN CURVED CONTAINMENT SYMBOLS AND FOR THE LAST FUCKING TIME, *I CAN SEE THOSE*.  
EB: yeah, i know, but it’s funny so i have to laugh but i don’t want to laugh without the brackets because then it’s loud and kinda ruins the joke.   
EB: so!  
EB: you coming home today buddy?  
CG: I’LL THINK ABOUT IT.  
EB: okay neat, i can make dinner for you too if you want?  
EB: well, my dinner, your breakfast ish meal?  
EB: c’mon, yeah? :D  
CG: I SAID I’LL THINK ABOUT IT, OKAY?  
CG: JEGUSFUCK, JOHN.

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] is offline.—

You leave the grubflakes, a bowl and a spoon on the table. You think about leaving a welcome back note, but you don’t.

The next morning, when you’re half falling over yourself to get your shoes on because you’re late as usual, you trip over very familiar grey sneakers. You take a moment to put them back as they were, then you haul ass to get to class.

That evening, Karkat leaves glistening green footprints on the floor as he scurries to the bathroom from his room. He sits next to you as he crunches his way through breakfast before he leaves for class.

You’re glad he’s back, but Karkat only looks at you sideways when your eyes are on your laptop, so you do the thing they taught you in that extra module on bedside manner, where you smile and think “everything’s okay” until you hope he gets it.

===/\===

Friday is cold, too cold to be at the table so bury yourself under your blankets and wear long sleeves and two pairs of socks and try to focus on your essay over your chattering teeth.

You hear the main door, and Karkat’s door, and you check the time in the bottom right corner of your screen and welp, you just spent four hours writing three paragraphs and dicking around on Facebook and pesterchum. They weren’t even very long paragraphs.

The bathroom door shuts and the water runs.

You still really want to be friends with Karkat.

You get that Karkat needs space. You totally do! Everyone gets snappy sometimes. There was a time when you were fourteen and Rose didn’t talk to anyone for nearly a month, and you were cool with that.

It’s just… different with Karkat somehow, probably because you live with him and he’s always there. Even though you run on completely different schedules, it’s super obvious when he’s suddenly gone. There’s a Karkat shaped hole in the way everything’s exactly as you left it, and the end of the corridor where his room is.

The point is you don’t like it. You want things to go back to the way they were.

Today’s Friday.

— ectoBiologist [EB] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

EB: hey karkat, you’re home! :D  
CG: HOLY GRUBFUCKED HELL JOHN, WHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE?  
EB: i was doing an essay.  
CG: I DIDN’T SEE YOU DOING AN ESSAY.  
CG: IMAGINE ME LOOKING AT YOU SUSPICIOUSLY.  
EB: imagining it right now!  
EB: wow karkat, why do you have to look so suspicious, don’t you believe me?  
EB: i’m so hurt karkat, i am all the hurt.  
EB: but really i was doing an essay.  
EB: it was just cold so i made a pillow fort ON my bed.  
EB: it’s awesome and once you sit in it for a while it’s nice and warm.  
EB: not super conducive for work though, i hardly got anything done, haha.  
CG: I WILL ACCORD THAT INFORMATION THE IMPORTANCE IT IS DUE, WHICH IS TO SAY I INTEND TO FORGET IT IMMEDIATELY AFTER CLOSING THIS WINDOW.  
CG: IS THERE A REASON YOU’RE HARASSING ME THE SECOND I STEP BACK INTO OUR SHARED HIVE?  
CG: IS THIS YOU INFORMING ME THAT I AM DUTY BOUND TO TAKE THE TRASH OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FREEZING, BULGEBITING NIGHT?  
EB: nah buddy, i wouldn’t do that to you.  
EB: plus it’s my turn to take out the trash and it can wait til tomorrow when the sun is up so it’s less brrrrr.  
CG: THEN BY ALL MEANS, PLEASE ENLIGHTEN ME AS TO THE REASON THIS CONVERSATION HAS TO BLAME FOR ITS SORRY EXISTENCE.  
EB: right, do you wanna watch a movie today?  
CG: I SUPPOSE I WOULD NOT BE COMPLETELY OPPOSED ON THE CONDITION THAT I GET TO CHOOSE WITHOUT A SINGLE HINT OF A COMPLAINT FROM THE EXPLOSIONS AND CARDBOARD CUTOUT CHARACTER DEPARTMENT.  
EB: you’re in your room, right?  
CG: WHERE THE FUCK ELSE WOULD I BE?  
EB: okay, give me like two seconds!  
CG: WHAT.

— ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG].—

You grab your laptop like a waiter tray, with your phone and your hard drive on top and basically take your pillow fort with you. The blankets drape over your shoulders like a cape and you take two pillows under your arm.

You get your door open, but the pillows slip when you quickly shuffle to Karkat’s room and all the door knobs are round.

You drag your forearm against the knob and slam the door open with your shoulder.

“ _OH MY FUCK_ —”

Something flies at you.

You dodge and grab for it, but the blanket slips off your shoulders and your phone and hard drive start sliding around. You slam your hand over your devices and hear the sharp smack and clatter of glass and circuitry hitting tile.  
“What was that?” you ask even as you turn to look.

“ _Fuck_!” Karkat spits. His phone is face down on the floor.

“Oh,” you say. You turn back to the room—it’s too dark to see Karkat—and smile guiltily.

“Oops?” you offer meekly.

Karkat sighs heavily and there’s a hint of a rattle in it.

“Dammit, John,” he growls and you can tell from his voice that he’s facepalming.

"I’m sorry!” you say and you put your laptop down by the wall, hopping over the bunch of pillows and blankets to get to the phone. “Here, I’ll get it for you—uh oh.”

“What. The fuck. Was that ‘uh oh’ for,” Karkat asks. He still sounds like he has a hand on his face.

“Well,” you say. “Um. It looks like you’re going to need a new phone?”

You hold up the phone to show him and the screen literally falls off, exposing battery and processors and delicate circuits.

There’s a super heavy silence. You wince and smile at him.

“Fuck you up the wastechute, John Egbert,” Karkat says flatly.

“I’m sorryyyy,” you… okay so maybe you whine a bit but it’s like two in the morning and cold and Karkat threw the phone in the first place. Hey, that’s a good point. “But I can’t believe you threw your phone. That would have seriously hurt if it hit me!”

“What’s the rule on personal space?” Karkat demands.

“Room is off limits unless we get invited in or it’s an emergency, I know, I know. I just got really excited about movie night and I’m really sorry about your phone. I’ll split repairs or the new phone cost, or hey, I’ll just buy you a new phone? You can even use my spare phone in the meantime!”

“… stop making that face at me. Don’t you fucking dare use that face.”

You blink.

“What face?” you ask.

“Don’t bullshit me, John. We both know that you know that you are using the disgustingly cute face you are making right now to try and appeal to my non-existent better nature in a futile attempt to avoid the spew of rage that is building up in my gullet.”

“Karkat, that’s my normal face,” you say and then to prove the point you pull a face and he goes pfft.

“So I’ll get you the other phone and we’ll watch, kay?” you say and pop into your room. Karkat says something, but the tone of it is still amused so you don’t ask him to repeat himself. You pop out his SIM card and the SD card and transfer it to your spare phone, and hurry back. Your teeth are chattering again.

“Here, you know how to use Android?” you offer the phone to the darkness and Karkat appears.

“Probably better than you can,” he replies, and he takes the phone delicately, not letting his clawtips touch at all.

It’s cute. You grin.

“Okay, neat. What movie?” you ask, dipping to pick up the blankets and your laptop.

“The Notebook,” he says with half a defensive hunch.

“Okay,” you say, and he discretely guides you by the arm so you don’t trip over the edge pieces of his pile.


	6. Piano

When you started university, you thought wow, six years is a really long time. Then suddenly four years are gone and everyone but you is graduating and everything is just so fast!

You attend everyone’s graduation ceremony after joking insistence that they _have_ to attend yours in two years’ time as because fair is fair. 

The ceremony itself is kind of anti-climactic. It’s a lot of waiting, mostly. People go on stage as their names are announced, get handed a scroll thing, get their photo taken, then get off stage. You barely have time to cheer and take photos from all the way behind the graduating masses’ seats before Karkat, Dave, Rose and Jade are already off stage. 

But the _afterparty_ is _AWESOME_. 

There’s music blasting from the speakers and it’s not your sort of music except tonight it totally is, heavy beat and trashy in the good way, the best way.

“ _JOHN_!” Dave yells in your ear, pushing another plastic cup of whiskey coke at you. The dark liquid inside sloshes so almost all of it spills over your hand and you laugh. Dave leans heavily on you and laughs too.

“ _DUDE_!” you yell back, and still barely hear yourself. “ _You are SO wasted_!” 

“ _No_ ,” Dave insists. “ _YOU are wasted_!”

“No, YOU!” you shout back and tackle him. 

Dave staggers backwards because he weighs practically nothing and then flails and grabs you and— _WOAH_ you drop and roll and go _thump-thump – **thump**_ down stairs like a cartoon pinwheel of cat and dog.

You land on your back and look up at the open night sky.

“I fucking WARNED you about the STAIRS, bro!” Dave shouts at the sky, from somewhere near you. He doesn’t even need to shout, the music is far enough you could hear him if he talked loud, but you still feel the thudding beat in your bones and heart.

You snicker.

“You’re SO LAME, Dave!” You shout back, only slightly turning your head in his direction. You guys landed kind of like that teenager cancer movie Karkat forced you to watch, only more out at an angle so you can’t see him anyway. Maybe a 160 degree angle.

“LAME,” you repeat when Dave doesn’t answer. “Get it? _Because we FELL DOWN_.”

“GodDAMN Egbert,” Dave groans dramatically, but then he ruins it by giggling.

“WHAT?” you demand because that’s the drunk version of the choked snorfle Dave does when he has a comeback so bad it’s hilarious.

“I KNEW you WERE _TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IIIIN_ ,” Dave shouts.

You grin, you know this song!

“So SHAME on ME,” you yell back. “AND NOW I’M LYING ON THE COLD HARD FLOOR!”

“GOG JOHN, THOSE ARE NOT THE LYRICS. You _pop music PLEEB_ , holy _fuck_ I am losing coolness points just by being near you!”

“… _GRASS_! ‘Cause we’re lying on GRASS, not FLOOR.”

“ ** _YOU TWO ARE EMBARASSING!_** ” Karkat yells from far away. His voice is great, it cuts through the heavy beat and the crowd and really booms over the grassy field.

“ _WE LOVE YOU TOO, KARKAT_!” you yell back, hands cupped around your mouth for maximum loudness.

Dave groans and you see him kick and roll in your peripheral vision.

“Johnnnnn, _noooo_ ,” he says.

“Daaaaaave, _YESSSSSSS_!”

“ _Nooooo_! HEY KARKLES, FOR THE RECORD, _IT’S JUST JOHN._ ”

“Shut UPPPP DAVE. YOU’RE **_DRUNK_**.”

“ _HEY_ , LOOK WHO’S THE TALKING TEAPOT CALLING THE KETTLE BLACK LIKE A RACIST ASSHOLE DOUCHE.”

“ ** _YOU’RE BOTH DRUNK AND GODDAMN FUCKING SHITSTAINS ON THE REPUTATION OF THE GENERAL PUBLIC AND YOUR LUSII_** ,” Karkat contributes from the top of the stairs. You turn your head but you can’t see him.

“YOU SHOULD JOIN US,” you shout, and in the side of your vision, Dave kick-rolls again and you see him jolt up.

“Aw _HELLA_ no, I’m not staying here for THAT. GOODBYE, EGBERT.”

He staggers to his feet like the floor is a ball pit, and you grab him round the knees and he tumbles. 

“I DON’T WANT TO BE FIRST ROW TO YOUR YAOI SLOPPY MAKEOUTS BRUH, LEMME _GOOOOOO_.”

Your face is hot and you blame the whiskey.

“SHUT UPPPP, oh my GOD, THAT IS _NOT TRUE_. _KARKAT_! DON’T LISTEN TO DAVE! DAVE IS A LYING _LIAR_!”

“EXCEPT THE PART WHERE IT’S FUCKING _TRUE_.”

“NO NOOOO NOO IT’S NOT! WE’RE _NOT HOMO_ , IT’S ONLY _CUDDLES_!”

“OH _YEHH_? WHAT ABOUT THE FUCKING P A N C A K E S BRO.”

"NOOOOOOOOO THAT DOESN’T COUNT! THAT WAS LIKE ONCEEEE, AND LIKE, TWO YEARS AGOOOOOOOO!”

“BUT YO MOVIES BRUH, THAT WAS LIKE. _YESTERDAY_.”

“Aaaaalright guys!” Jade says and suddenly Dave is dragged away and Jade has him under the arms in an incomplete master lock. “Student union peeps say that people are going to call security on us, so let’s get you home, kay?”

“Jade, did you have stuff?” you frown at her.

“Yeh Jade, did you even drink?” Dave asks.

“Of course!” she says and she hefts him higher, her face half disappearing behind his shoulder. “Hey, Karkat, can you get John home? Kanaya’s taking Rose, I’ve got to take Dave since Tavros can’t and—”

“And Gamzee and Terezi are godfucking knows _where_ ,” Karkat says dryly, and he’s suddenly standing next to you, sneakers by your hair. Hehe, you can see up his nose from here.

“Oooh, gonna take me home mister Vantas?” you say and wag your eyebrows at him.

He snorts.

“You think you’re so clever, but you’ve already flogged that joke of a hoofbeast a million fucking times,” he says as he crouches and Dave makes distressed whale noises and Jade cheerfully offers to haul his _unconscious_ body back to his apartment if he doesn’t _stop flopping about_.

“Did you drink?” you ask as Karkat gets a hand behind your back and pushes you to a sitting position.

“Yes, but I could drink a literal fountain of human alcohol and it would do approximately fuckall, John,” he says and he slips an arm around your waist and pulls you up.

“Wooooow, I’m swooning,” you snicker and you drop your weight against him all at once. Karkat sways and recovers a step but you can’t get him to stagger because he’s built denser and solid-er than he looks.

“See you, Harley,” Karkat says.

“You’re walking back?” Jade asks. She opens one hand and she has keys. They jangle prettily. Jade’s pretty and cool and the best cousin ever and also the best car person. Jade is so great.

“Shut up, John, you need the walk. Yeah, thanks but we’ll walk.”

“Okay,” she says and she drags Dave away. Not fair. Jade drives a freaking truck, it could totally have taken all of you.

But hey, on the bright side, you’re used to walking home and you have a nice campus. And a nice Karkat. Karkat so great too.

You pat Karkat on the side of his head and he makes a face, all scrunched up.

You don’t remember much from the walk back except stopping Karkat on the field where you always play Frisbee and telling him about the awesome game you played with Dave against Terezi and Vriska. You suggest Karkat play. You suggest Karkat play _right now_. Karkat calls you an idiot and points out neither of you have a disc. You try and fail to think of a clever reply to that. Karkat laughs the way Karkat laughs, a small _heh_ he tries to hide but can’t, and his face lights up like a different person.  He drags you back to the dorm.

The lobby of your dorm is deserted and the wall piano looks lonely so you dig your heels in.

“What the fuck, John.”

“Hey,” you say. “I have a great idea.”

“Oh god,” Karkat groans and you dig your elbow into his side and he flinches away.

You run to the other side of the piano.

“Gimme a hand, Karkat!” you grin.

He eyes the piano.

“Where are you bringing that?” he asks warily.

“You’ll see!” you say, throwing your weight back. The piano drags and Karkat does a tiny growl at the noise. “C’mon, Karkat!”

“Dammit, John,” he says, but he goes and lifts the other side.

 

 

By the time you got to the roof, you were panting and sweating but as soon as you got the piano out under the sky you gave a whoop and jogged a half circle to tackle hug Karkat.

He click-swears and takes a swipe at you but you dodge away.

“Hahah, I told you it would be great!” You say and the night air is nice on your skin. It’s summer so it’s cool without being cold.

Karkat’s breathing hard and the yellow-white light from the next two blocks shows the sheen of sweat on his face.

“Fuck you,” Karkat growls and stops talking to breathe.

“What songs do you like?” you ask, and lift the fall board. The keys are a little yellowed, like bone, only white against the darkness of everything else.

Karkat waves a hand and leans against the piano.

You start playing one of Karkat’s songs, or what you think you remember of Karkat’s songs. You remember it because it started pretty and pensive, then got some very emotional tones.  You don’t remember the words, and you probably mess up the tune a little, but you remember the feeling of it and it felt right. It felt blue and black like the sky above you, and the gentle breeze against your back.

Karkat props himself up with a hand on his cheek and an elbow on the piano. When you glance up at him he’s looking very seriously at your face instead of your hands and he grudgingly answers with a tiny smile when you grin at him.

“‘Sup Karkat?” you say when you can’t remember how the song ends.

“Don’t you need a chair?” he asks.

“Hm, that’d be nice. How about… that box!”

Karkat spins and looks where you’re pointing and frowns at you.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, grab the box!”

He gets you the box and looks at you funny.

You sit but misjudge and yelp as the box collapses. Your legs go out and scrabble against the concrete and you slam into Karkat’s knees. He curses and grabs the piano and falls on top of you, elbow landing smack middle of your ribcage.

“Oww,” you wheeze.

Karkat clicks and slips his elbow off and searches your face, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” he says and grabs a fistful of your shirt over your belly and you shriek and knee him in the solar plexus and Karkat goes flop beside you.

“Karkat, are you okay!?” you ask, sitting up.

“Fuck you, Egbert,” he grunts and gives you a middle finger.

You laugh and flop down next to him.

“Yeah, you’re okay,” you say and Karkat makes a funny warble.

“This is why I hated you so much in the beginning,” he groans.

“ _You hated me_?”

“In the beginning. For maybe two months before I despaired before your general barkbeast nature.”

You roll so you can see his face.

“Karkat, I need to know,” you say very seriously.

“What?” he asks, frowning.

“Do you still hate me?”

Karkat snorts and pushes you so you flop again.

“Obviously not, you dumb shit,” he said and that’s good. You don’t want Karkat to hate you, that’d be awful.

You lay on your back on the cool concrete, and above you the wooden underbelly of the piano cuts to where the lacquered black blends with the cloudy sky. There’s too much light pollution to see stars.

You wonder if Karkat can see the stars.

“Hey Karkat,” you say and he _hmm_ s. “Isn’t this kinda like camping?”

“I hate camping,” he says.

“Whyyy?” you give a scandalised gasp. “Camping is fun!”

“I hate it on principle. The concept is a terrible idea.”

“Aha! So you haven’t _been_ camping!” you say with cartoon villain triumph. “We need to fix this!”

“No John, you do not need to subject Karkat to sleeping at the mercy of the elements when technology, civilisation and more importantly running water and thermostats exist.” 

“You should come to my house,” you decide, because Karkat is always a wet blanket and _has_ to complain about everything even though he has fun. “I have this balcony thing and we could totally do the tent thing on it.”

“John, stop. Listen to me. That does not make the concept sound anything less than a terrible idea. In fact, it makes the entire exercise redundant.”

“But it would be _fun_.”

“I’ve heard these lies before. Remember the baby featherbeast video?”

“…bird video? What bird video?”

“ _The_ bird video. The video wherein an innocent, tiny, fluffy baby bird fucking _bounces down a cliff of death_. It is forever burned into my memory, John. It is burned into my memory because of the bulgewilting _trauma of watching it,_ cheerfully inflicted by you.”

“Oh, the barnacle gosling. I’m _sorry_ , but that was _two years ago_! How many times do you want me to say I’m sorry, sheesh… Oh.”

“I do not like that ‘oh’. I have learnt not to like that ‘oh’ from three and a half years of conditioning. What was that ‘oh’.”

“Speeeeaking of dead babies…”

“Oh god, what.”

“When you weren’t looking, I kinda tried your grubflakes. It wasn’t that bad, and _that’s what scares me._ It doesn’t _taste_ like dead babies but it’s _DEAD. BABIES._ I mean, where do all these dead babies even come from!?”

“Alternia,” Karkat answers literally. He shifts and there’s a whisper of cotton on concrete. “Grubs don’t gain sentience until six perigees though. They’re just mindless killing automatons, and fucking millions get killed in the trials every sweep anyway. It’s more of a waste not to eat them actually.”

“That’s fucked uuuuuup.”

“That’s my culture, you insensitive fuckwit.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s still fucked up!”

“Duly noted, John. I will notify the Empress personally as soon as I get back and enter into Her glorious propaggrandisation team. Would you like me to croon a soulful melody and lead grubs into the streets like some demented Pupa Pan come to life while I’m at it?”

You break into hysterical laughter at the image of Karkat in green tights skipping into town and he thwacks you with the back of his hand.

“Shut _up_ , John. It’s not _that_ funny.”

“Yes it is! Like a Disney princess leading a flock of animals, except it’s like that movie you made me watch with the cartoon princess who turns into a real person in New York, so it’s like _roaches, PFFT_. You’re the Disney princess, Karkat. Specifically _that_ Disney princess.” 

“No, I refuse.”

“No choice, buddy! Even from the first time we met, we were like, yeah, Karkat is the Disney princess! …Or a small dog. … Or… Paris Hilton?”

“It was Strider, wasn’t it. That was not a question. I will make him eat his fucking shades.”

“Don’t do that, it was funny. We wouldn’t be friends if it weren’t for that.”

“Really?” Karkat asks softly and then he swallows loudly. “I find that exceedingly difficult to believe given _your_ introduction,” he said, and it’s a little crickety.

You snicker.

“Okay, we would still be friends but that pesterlog with Dave definitely helped.”

“I see,” Karkat says, and you both stare up at the bare shapes of grey clouds on blue black sky with no stars.

The breeze picks up a little and you breathe with it even as most of it goes over you. Where your skin is uncovered, you feel a chill.

You cross your arms over yourself.

“Hey,” you say. “What’s Alternia like?”

Karkat shifts.

“That’s a first in four fucking years,” he comments and you feel a little bad for not asking, but it never really came up before. “Why suddenly?” Karkat asks.

“I’m curious, that’s all. Maybe I’ll visit.”

“You can’t.”

Karkat’s reply isn’t mean and isn’t sad but it’s clipped a little at the corners and simple. An inconvenient truth.

“What, why?”

Karkat sighs and there’s a low hum behind it.

“Getting around the intranet is a cullable offence, let’s not even contrive to think of smuggling in a human. You’d be eaten alive in approximately four seconds anyway.”

“ _What_? What’s wrong with being human?”

“Someone doesn’t read the news.” Karkat’s voice is the same, scratchy amused-derisive it is when you can’t find the light switches.

“But- but why?!”

“Space constraints, the security of the oxygen dome, maybe the fact _you have a political party intent on **assassinating the Empress**_ , oh I don’t _know_ John, why _would_ trollkind deprive itself of your company.”

“We have a political party intent on _what_?” you repeat in horror.

There’s a silence and Karkat breaks it with a ‘ _pfft’_. He knocks the back of his hand against your forearm and you let that arm fall to the floor with his. He lets his arm stay there, and your fingers just about make contact, but not quite.

It’s probably your imagination, but you think you can almost feel his warmth.  

“Read the fucking paper once in a while, dumbass,” Karkat says, but not in a mean way. Karkat’s too nice to be really mean.

“Sorry.” You mean for it to come out funny but it just ends up small. You clear your throat. Try again.

“When’s your flight?” you ask.

“Next week, Wednesday, two in the afternoon because I hate myself,” Karkat replies, like it’s a route phrase like ‘please take a queue number and have a seat’ or ‘how are you’.

It’s Friday.

“That’s pretty soon,” you say, not knowing what else to say. Your mind draws a blank.

“I have a job interview that I want to be there in person for,” he explains and you take a while to process that. Oh, that’s good right? Having a job, growing up, being busy. They’re meant to be good things.

You smile up at the sky and it takes a little more effort than usual. You’re kinda tired and floaty.

“That’s great, Karkat. Congrats.”

“Thanks,” Karkat says.

He doesn’t say what job, and you don’t remember if you talked after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __  
> [What song did John play?](http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/post/112405361145/i-got-those-jet-pack-blues-just-like-judy-the-kind)  
>  _What if I told you that[the lyrics are important](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OuBq9rKcJk)?_  
> 


	7. Airport

Karkat is a digital kind of guy. The only analogue he has is a red marker, a black pen and a couple of really beat up paperback novels, with Renaissance like cover illustrations of busty troll ladies and buff troll dudes.

Everything was so quiet you thought he was already packed. Then, the night before he's set to fly, you hear a lot of clattering from Karkat’s room and pop your head in.

“Hey,” you say. “ _Woah_ , what happened here?”

Karkat’s pile had been completely flattened, and stuff is all over the floor.

“Last minute packing because past me decided to be such a goddamn smartass,” Karkat replies, picking his way through his stuff to a suitcase. He shoves some stuff away with his foot, then opens it.

“Want a hand?” you offer.

Karkat takes a moment to think about it.

“Many hands, light work?” you add and you wiggle your fingers at him. He gives an amused snort.

“Okay,” he says and points out three spots on the floor. “Breakables, clothes, hard items.”

“Sure thing,” you say and get to sorting.

The room is dim, as usual, but you leave the door open and have more than enough light to identify _what_ a thing is, even if you can’t tell details like words.

It’s mostly clothes, but he’s got other things too. A plush toy dragon with no arms. Postcards. A wooden box with seashells on them. A sand bottle glass thing. Magnets. Pretty rocks… geodes you think they’re called? Jade got you some too and they’re sitting in the bottom of your drawers somewhere.

“Oh man, this is so neat,” you say, holding them up where you could see them in the light. The outside was really boring and grey, but it was but open and the inside was a deep, rich red that sparkled like cut crystals.

“Thanks,” Karkat says. “I didn’t expect there to be so much.” He has this pensive look as he puts a Christmas Starbucks tumbler in the ‘hard items’ pile. You suddenly feel like you have to hold the rocks with both hands, maybe over the clothes pile just in case you’re a klutz and drop them.

“I didn’t know that you’re supposed to bring the entire thing with you,” you tell him. You very carefully and slightly nervously put the rock down on the ‘hard items’ pile as well.

Karkat blinks.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I bring everything? That’s not only colossal stupidity seeing as about half of these are my _clothes_ , but it is also kind of a fucking asshole move to just throw gifts away.”  

He gestures with a Frisbee. It’s green with a ghost busters sign on it, and underneath is a permanent marker scribble. It’s too dark to read but you’re the one who wrote it, so you know it says ‘ _hey karkat, now you have no excuse not to play, haha. take care of this, it’s my favourite disk, okay? :)_ ’.

“Oh,” you say, feeling a bit dumb for not thinking of that. It seems kind of obvious after he said it. “So they’re all gifts?”

“Mostly,” he admits with thinly disguised pride, like a housewife saying ‘don’t mind the mess’ when the room is spotless. (Wow where did that analogy even come from? Now you have the image of Karkat in a flowery apron in your head.)

“I had the suitcase underneath,” Karkat continues. “In a permanent hive you’d make your pile solid. Still, it got a lot bigger than I thought it would. I didn’t expect to know so many people.”

“Yeah,” you say, from where you were sitting cross-legged on Karkat’s floor with all Karkat’s stuff. “Yeah, it’s been fun.”

 

===/\===

 

You remember the geode Jade got you, pretty and blue-ringed and just the size of your palm. You joked that she got blue because she liked it and then realised she had nothing to give you so she gave you hers.

Helping Karkat pack made you super nostalgic, so you look for it. You brave your bottom drawer, and after a bit of digging, you give up and up end the whole thing on your floor.

Something skidders out into the corridor, clattering.

“Crap!” you chase after it.

You have it in your hand before you even realise what it is.

It’s Karkat's phone.

Not the one he’s using now, duh, but the old phone. The one that he flung at you that one night, the one that's like an inside-out sandwich of circuitry and broken phone pieces.

Wow, that was two years ago.

You run the pad of your thumb over the rough circuitry edges and look over at Karkat’s door. He’s not there because he had last minute errands to run and he said he’d be back super late.

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, turning the phone over in your hand. You said you’d get it fixed, and then you were waiting for the next model, then it was exam period, then you went back home for Christmas, then it got dumped into your drawer when you came back before Chinese New Year and you completely forgot about it.

Wow, you’re actually kind of a crappy friend.

You feel bad. Karkat is really great for putting up with you. Karkat deserves good friends.

Hm, what can you do to make it up to him?

It has to be special too! If it was just store bought stuff, he could totally get it on his own. You bite your lip and wish you had an oven in your apartment.

Probably best you didn’t, you didn’t know recipes with no sugar anyway.

Well, you could write him a note. It wasn’t super nice, but you could do it quick and it would still be meaningful.

You grab some paper and scribble a border with a blue whiteboard marker so it wouldn’t look so sad. Then you sit down and write—

‘ _hi karkat’_

\--and then it hits you that you’re writing goodbye.

That you might seriously _never_ see Karkat again.

Your pen stills, and your hand feels numb. Your _head_ feels numb. You have no idea what to write that won’t be super lame and utterly inadequate.

You continue with ‘ _thank you so much for everything’_ and it means so little and this is _so. Stupid._

You rip your glasses off, throw them on your table and rub at your eyes, your face.

You don’t know what to write. You don’t know _anything_.

There’s an indistinct need under your skin like an itch, like a food craving except you _don’t know_ what you want.

You’re crying.

What the fuck, why are you crying?

You scrub your tears away with your sleeve and get back to writing. You’re only going to write _happy_ things! (Karkat is _leaving_ and it _hurts_ , it hurts right in the middle of your chest so it’s hard to breathe.) You don’t want Karkat to leave but it’s what he wants and it’s good for him! You would be a terrible friend—the _worst_ friend—if you told him not to go.

(But it’s so _far away_ , he won’t even have pesterchum or facebook because Alternia _sucks_.)

This sucks. Everything sucks.

You were okay with this!

You were really okay with this. Until now, when you’re trying to put a lifetime’s friendship into half a page of words and write happy things because you want him to be happy. Your chest hurts and your nose is blocked and you have tears running hot down your face but you want Karkat to be happy with everything you have.

You write Karkat’s letter and put it in your wallet so you don’t forget.

 

===/\===

 

Karkat is practically a zombie when you knock on the side of his ‘coon the next morning. He sleeps through the drive to the airport, and you have to really shake him awake. He grumbles incoherently and drags himself out of the car.

You grab lunch and talk about a ton of trivial things. You talk about sending each other legit snail mail, holy shit. You haven’t done that since you sent Dave, Rose and Jade presents when you were kids. You manage to keep the conversation light, and Karkat makes not-frowny faces, which are as good as you’re going to get when he’s this sleep-deprived.

You walk him to the glass gates where you can’t get through without a ticket.

He turns and you think ‘this is it’. This is the big goodbye.

“Karkat,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says. “Hold on.”

You frown and stare as Karkat fishes his phone out of his back pocket and very delicately pops the SIM card out. He holds the phone out to you.

“Uh,” you say. “What?”

“This is yours,” Karkat says. You blink and the phone gleams back at you, pristine and super well taken care of.

“Oh,” you realise. “Oh, that phone. It’s yours! I broke the other one, so you can have this one, remember?”

Karkat snorts. “John, we both know that phone was my own fault.”

He offers the phone again, and you suddenly remember.

“Wait, wait, wait, keep that and I have something for you!” you tell him and pull your wallet and the letter from your pocket.

“This!” you say and tuck the letter into his hand.

“Okay,” Karkat says, and he starts to open it.

“No no no no no, don’t read it _now_!”

“It’s _my_ letter now, so I’m going to read it!” Karkat shoots back, and he mock-growls with teeth at you.

“Noooooooo,” you groan, and _he actually starts reading it_. You can’t look at him and you bounce your weight on the balls of your feet while looking everywhere but him reading your super sappy writing.

“Thanks,” he says when he’s done. He sounds so far away and you don’t even _care_ that hugging is some weird thing to trolls, you hug the stuffing out of your buddy Karkat.

“Aw man, I’m going to miss you _so much_ ,” you say and your voice kind of cracks a little near the end and dies before you can say ‘take care of yourself okay’.

“John,” he says, and it’s the way he says your name, “ _Zhann_ ”, all buzzy and distinctly Karkat. “You’re going to break my goddamn vertical support column you panrotten shit.”

He hugs you back though, and you can feel his hands through the back of your hoodie, curled with claws into his fists and the insides of his forearms pressed against your back. He’s pressed against you and he’s warm and breathing with his face buried in the front of your hoodie and you’re still not close enough. How can you get close enough to make up for him being miles and miles and whole, entire continents away possibly _forever_?

He’s so perfect and you kiss him, quick across the lips.

Karkat blinks.

“I thought you’re ‘not a homosexual’?” he asks dryly.

“I’m not!” you respond instantly, indignant.

(You want to kiss him again.)

“Then kindly enlighten me as to _what the fuck that was_ , John.”

He’s getting mad. Shit oh shit oh shit, you would get mad too, in his situation. Maybe. You think. You aren’t thinking very much right now. Karkat’s red and gold eyes are super close and he’s glaring and his claws are in your hoodie and you couldn’t run if you tried.

“I don’t know,” you say, running a hand through your hair. You can’t meet his eyes, so you look just over his shoulder, off to one side. “I just—sorry, man. Haha, I—”

“You are the biggest fuckass,” he says and he leans forward. You meep.

Karkat sighs and pulls back, but doesn’t let go of your hoodie.

“Make up your mind, John,” he says. “If you want me, all you have to do is fucking say so. I’ve been panfucked stupid over you for two _sweeps_ now. You’re the goddamn stars and moons to me in case you haven’t noticed, numbnuts. You and your _fucking_ blue eyes and imbecilic _face_ —”

He’s got that look again, where he’s going to cry and he’s tired and he’s angry and he’s tired of being angry and he wants to cuddle you and watch a movie until both of you fall asleep and he runs his fingers through your hair when he thinks you’re asleep but you’re not.

You can’t breathe. He’s so close if you breathe you’d be breathing together.

“Peel your aural shells and fucking listen to me this _one_ time, because I sure as fuck am not repeating myself here,” Karkat orders, right in your face.

You give him a nervous smile and the grip on your hoodie tightens.

“I love you, John Egbert,” Karkat says, and he _means it_. “I love you, and I’m fucking miserable and I _can’t **stop**_. I don’t even care if you can’t love me back, I just. I just want you to be happy because I’m a laughable shit who’s horns over heels red for a human. Thanks for tolerating my existence. The last few years were… nice.”

He takes a shuddering breath, and his hands uncurl, leaving heat over your shoulder blades.

(You’re so close to crying again, and you’re horrified because last night was one thing but now you’re _in public_.)

You can’t—

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I’m so sorry.” You hug him again, crushingly tight, saying it over and over again. “I’m so sorry, Karkat, I’m so sorry.”

“Goddamnit John, I—”

He’s shaking a little and he’s probably crying and no, you don’t want Karkat crying, no no no no –

So you kiss him, kiss him on the mouth, kiss his cheeks and his eyelids like that would kiss his tears away. They taste bittersweet, like cherry cough syrup that doesn’t taste like cherries at all, but can’t be anything else.

“Karkat,” you say, whispered against his temple. “Karkat, you’re _important_ to me. You’re so, so, _so_ important. I… I can’t imagine what life was like before you, I— _seriously_. I’m going to miss you. I already miss you. I miss you so, so much—”

“But you don’t love me.”

He says it like a death sentence and your insides cringe.

“Karkat, it’s not that. It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know what this kind of love is? Like, I know I love my dad and my friends, Rose, Dave, Jade, they’re important. And _you’re_ important. And I like you. I _really_ like you, and we like the same things and you’re funny and cute and you care and I _just_.”

You take a breath.

“I feel like I could?” you say tentatively.

In your arms, Karkat goes very still.

“I think I could like you in that way,” you say again with less question in it. “I really do. I’m just not sure whether I can call it that just yet, but I really like you and— _arghhhhhhhhh_ why is explaining things so hard! I’m trying, I swear I am!”

You put your chin on his shoulder and glare at the floor.

“Right,” Karkat says next to your ear. “In small words, John. What do you want from me?”

“I want what we had,” you mumble into his shoulder.

Karkat tenses minutely against your chest.

“I can’t do that anymore,” he says, clipped.

“I’m sorry, Karkat, I don’t know what to say!” you push away. “What do you want me to say!”

His hands are just above your elbows now, holding you there and he stares at you and you feel dumb and awful. It’s so _simple_ , you just want him to stay. Why must things be so complicated?

“What do you _want_?” you ask again, this time in your indoor voice.

He looks at you and you feel that horrible tightness in your chest coming back again.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks very solemnly.

You don’t think that’s what’s important now but you nod anyway.

His hands come up to your jaw and neck, and he presses his lips to yours. He’s so gentle it’s like he thinks you’re going to break if he so much as twitches wrong.

“Was that okay?” he asks when he pulls away. You give a nod again, and you have the question ‘how is this helping’ bursting right under your skin, and you can’t say it.

He looks down, at your chest. (At your heart.)

“It’s your choice to make,” he says, without looking at your face. His hands are back on your arms, right above your elbows, curled into the fabric. His hands are trembling. “I’m not asking you to fall in love with me right now, or to love me forever and a day or die for me or some shit like that. Real life isn’t like that, I get it. I know. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance. If you can promise me that, I’m yours.”

Oh.

Okay. Wow. That’s … so serious.

You don’t know what to say. Karkat holds onto you, and the digital numbers on the wall past the glass doors flicker another minute closer to when Karkat’ll have to leave.

You don’t want this choice. It’s heavy, it’s important and so huge that you’re not even sure what the borders of ‘this’ are, you can’t even begin to fathom what this step would hold. It’s like you’re standing at the edge of a chasm where you can’t see the bottom, except that’s never scared you before.

You think maybe Karkat’s scared of your answer. You don’t know what to think.

You can only imagine what it’s like to hold something an almost-secret, never say it, never do anything about it, for two entire years or more. You wouldn’t be able to.

The clock flickers another minute away.

What _is_ a chance? You don’t know. You haven’t thought about it before, except maybe to laugh about people doing dumb things in movies with Jade when you were younger. Rose might have mentioned ‘giving nice guys a chance’ with scorn, or was that Rose’s girlfriend?

Would it be worse to do that? But this is different! You _like_ Karkat. You always have.

You’re taking too long to decide. Karkat’s sort of… deflated, shoulders slumped in, like if he made himself small enough, you won’t see that’s he’s right in front of you. Something in your chest shrinks along with him, and there’s this knee-jerk urge to ‘make it better’, make him ‘not hurting’.

You love all your friends, and Karkat’s your friend. Maybe one day you can grow to love him the way he wants. And if he thinks that’s good enough, then it’s good enough for you too. You can try. You want to try.

In the end, you always were the type of person who’d jump the edge, and have faith in the air rushing past you.

(Have faith in him.)

Another minute goes.

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do this.”

Karkat stops breathing. He looks at you like you aren’t real, like he’s about to cry, but they’d be happy tears. Or at least not sad-tears. Sometimes there’s not that much difference, when you’ve been hurting for a while. Wow, you aren’t making sense! Your relief is so strong you just want to start giggling, laugh forever.

It’s great. This is great. Yeah, you definitely made the right choice.

You kiss him and break into a smile at the end.

“Hi Karkat,” you grin.

 

 

===/END\===

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Fic also found on tumblr [here](http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/tagged/integration%20fic/chrono).

**Author's Note:**

> Also available on tumblr [here](http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/tagged/integration%20fic/chrono).


End file.
